And Here Comes You
by mikey-rocks
Summary: After Hermione and Draco are forced into an awkward living situation feelings begin to arise. But with the mysterious appearances and disappearances occurring in their lives will they be able to hold on to each other? Post-Hogwarts. Dramione. R&R!
1. On the Inside

**Disclaimer:** J.K. owns. Mikey doesn't. lol

Sooo... first let me say I am so new to this. I'm not really sure where I'm going with the story just yet. I started it a while ago, but never finished. If you happen to recognize the story, it's because I previously posted the first chapters on a different site under a different penname, so don't think I'm stealing anybody's work. lol. But anyway, let me know what you like, what you don't like, and feel free to give suggestions. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

As an Auror, twenty-five year old Hermione Granger was very upset at the assignment she had been given. Her rank was entirely too high to be running errands. She was entirely too smart to be doing something so supercilious. She was entirely too tired to even be awake. However, there she stood outside the gates of Malfoy Manor. Hermione had been assigned to inspect Malfoy Manor for any illegal magical objects. This job she felt was far beneath her. _Of course_ there were dangerous and illegal objects at the Malfoy Manor. The Malfoys were decidedly one of the oldest and most evil wizarding families during Voldemort's reign. Yes, they were going to have some undesirable trinkets. But surely the Ministry could have spared someone else to make sure Malfoy wasn't up to any mischief with his many toys. Hermione just didn't find the situation that difficult. She would go in, chastise Malfoy for having a few things he shouldn't, and then leave. She couldn't see any logic in telling him to get rid of anything potentially dangerous. Any dark object he may have was probably safer in his house, rather than on the streets. The entire situation was silly to her. However her superior thought the job was right up Hermione's alley. And Hermione Granger always did her job, and did it well.

But that didn't mean that she enjoyed it. She sighed as walked up towards Malfoy Manor. She stared at the mansion from behind its black cast iron gates. The stone building more resembled a castle than a house. There were towers and large painted glass windows not unlike those at Hogwarts. The front door resembled a drawbridge and the lawn seemed to go on forever. It was a very big house, Hermione finally decided before breaking the charms and letting herself in.

Closing the gate behind her, she narrowed her eyes as she thought about the long walk ahead of her. Hermione then rolled her eyes at herself, and apparated to the front door. _Honestly, I am a witch after all, _she thought. She sighed, staring at the door. She really wanted to be in and out of here as soon as possible. So she immediately went for the doorknocker and rapped smartly on the large wooden door. She waited a moment and then rapped again. It was a rather large house. Perhaps, no one would hear her the first time. Hermione tapped her foot irritably. _I really do have better, more important things to do,_ she thought. _Laundry is piling up, bookshelves needed alphabetizing, Crookshanks could use a new blanket for his basket… _She paused, contemplating other things of equal importance and urgency._ Like I said, better things to do. _She made to rap again when the door opened slightly, enough for Hermione to glimpse one very large eyeball peering through the crack.

"Can I help you, Miss?" the house elf squeaked, looking very nervous.

Hermione's face quickly softened at the sight at the begotten creature. She bent down so that she was eye level with the elf.

"Good afternoon," she said kindly. "May I speak to the owner of the house? Mr. Malfoy?"

The house elf looked at her briefly, and then stared over her shoulder. The small elf shifted its weight from one foot to the other, and then wrung it's hands in anguish, as if it couldn't decide what to do. Hermione was instantly reminded of Dobby, and took pity on the poor elf.

"It's alright," she said soothingly, not quite understanding what would cause the elf to act in such a way. "Don't worry. Please tell Mr. Malfoy that there is someone from the Ministry that would like to speak with him for just a moment. Kindly let Mr. Malfoy know that he is not in any trouble." _Not yet, anyway, _she thought.

At this the elf seemed to become even more distressed. She pulled her ears and stomped her feet several times before finally managing to say, "Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Malfoy are very busy at the moment."

Hermione looked confusedly at the elf for several moments. There were only two living Malfoys left. One lived a solitary life in this mansion, and the other had been locked away in Azkaban years ago. Malfoy couldn't have taken himself a husband; he never really seemed the type. She scoffed inwardly at the thought, before shaking her so she could think clearly. Hermione looked back at the elf, to find her staring back, widening her eyes emphatically. An understanding passed between the two of them and Hermione stood up to her full height, gripping her wand firmly in her right hand.

"Where is he?" she said quiet and calmly. The elf shook her head, tears in her eyes. Hermione sighed and asked again. "Where is Lucius?" The elf only shook her head again, and began to pace. Hermione contemplated searching the expansive house for him and thought better of it. She really did not have the time to be playing hide-and-go-seek with an escaped Death Eater. Malfoy knew each and every nook and cranny of the house and already had the upper hand. It was imperative that she knew exactly where he was if she was to have any hope in apprehending him. She looked sternly at the elf and asked a final time. "Where is Lucius Malfoy?"

When the elf did not answer, Hermione swiftly pointed her wand at the creature. As much as she despised it when witches and wizards abused their magical abilities, she really didn't have any time for nonsense. "Elf, if you do not tell me where your master is you will be very sorry indeed." The tiny elf whimpered, and suppressed a scream. "Upstairs," she whispered crying.

"Upstairs where?" Hermione snapped, still pointing her wand menacingly.

"Third floor, in the drawing room," the elf said fearfully. "Seventh door on the left."

"Thank you," Hermione said lowering her wand and briskly letting herself into the house.

Hermione peered up the landing as she approached the third story. The hallway was dimly lit by a few candles, and appeared empty. She took in her surroundings. The wallpaper had faded to a dusty green, except in occasional rectangular patches, where she could only guess, pictures used to hang. _Draco must have taken them down, _she thought. She could imagine how likenesses of his broken family could torture him. She frowned, careful not to make any sounds, making her way up the last of the steps. She counted the doors, as she passed them, wand hand tensed and ready. Third. Fourth. Fifth door. She stopped abruptly in between the sixth and the seventh when she heard a voice through the open door way. Pressing her body flat against the wall she listened closely to the voice within.

"Foolish boy." It said. "This is exactly why I've kept you so close when you were in school. You weren't like the rest of the family. I knew that if you had it your way, you would choose this path. But you do not see it, do you?" He laughed. "Good and Evil. There are no such things. There is only power, and those strong enough to take it. That is what truly seperates us." He looked down on the younger man with disgust. "You, my son, are hopelessly weak. After years in Azkaban I finally escape to find my master long gone and that my son did nothing to prevent it. The Dark Lord should have taken your life at your first show of incompetence. You have Snape to thank for you surviving so long..." His grey eyes were void of any emotion. "But you have over stayed your welcome in this house and on this Earth. Disgrace me no longer. You are no son of mine."

Hermione, knowing she could wait no longer, jumped through the doorway. "Stupefy!"

Lucius had time enough to look absolutely livid before being blasted into the wall behind him. She stared around the room, tense and ready for a fight, when she noticed gratefully that Lucius hadn't brought any lackeys along with him. Relaxing Hermione moved across the room to kick Lucius' unmoving form. He was out cold, blood trickling down the back of his head from the impact with the wall. She had given the spell a little too much force, as she most often did. But looking at Lucius, she felt no remorse. She bound him as a precaution and continued to stare at the man with loathing, when a moan from the other side of the room got her attention.

"Draco," she breathed.


	2. Broken Glass

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything. Sadly JK does. lol

First of all, thanks for reading! I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter. Thanks to xxxxcrazychickxxxx for being the first to leave me a review! Yay! lol. This chapter is quite a bit longer than the previous one. I hope you all like it, and as usual, please, please, please leave a review! Suggestions are always welcome. Enjoy!

Mikey

* * *

In the corner of the room was a badly beaten and shaking Draco, taking sharp shuddering breathes. Hermione had seen countless injuries; most of them on her very best friends, but it never pained her any less to see someone in so much pain. His body was extremely battered. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth and the area around his right eye was swollen and purple. He met her gaze, his usual piercing grey eyes dull and listless. He narrowed his eyes at her in recognition.

"How did you get in my house, Mudblood?"

Hermione sighed. "You're welcome, Malfoy. Let me see if I can't fix you up a bit," she said as she stepped closer to him.

"Don't you touch me," he said backing up against the wall. "I'll take care of this myself." He started to get up, but failed. Hermione rolled her eyes and pointed her wand at him, immobilizing him.

"Please don't fight me, Malfoy. I'll be out of your hair soon enough. You must have noticed that you're horribly hurt." she said kneeling over his body. She waved her wand over him in several complicated motions. "I'm no Madam Pomfrey," she said surveying her work. "But this will have to do." She palpated his skin in a few spots, and ran her hand over his arms where wounds had previously been. "Excuse me," she said not looking at his face. She unbuttoned his shirt to inspect. His abdomen was still red from where gashes had been. But it had healed nicely. Hermione tried and failed not to notice Malfoy's very well toned body. She had been staring at him for quite some time before she snapped out her trance. She cleared her throat loudly. "All better!" she said a little too enthusiastically. "I need to contact the ministry. They'll be happy to know I've got Lucius," she said, pacing the room. "I don't exactly trust that you'll sit tight until I return. So I think it's best if I leave you like this," she said smirking at his angry eyes, the only thing he was able to move. She kneeled back down and pinched his cheek, putting on her best "baby talk" voice. "Back in a bit, lovey." She walked off, laughing at her own cheek. She knew that if he were capable of it, he would have cursed her six ways to Sunday.

She returned to the mansion no more than ten minutes later, with a group of Aurors led by her superior, a wizard named Ayden Acer. They took the unconscious Malfoy into custody, and then proceeded to do a sweep of the house. When satisfied, they went back to the drawing room, where Hermione was keeping an eye on the younger Malfoy.

"Why haven't you freed him?" Acer asked, motioning towards Draco.

"Oh, my," Hermione said, feigning surprise. "It completely slipped my mind." She got up from the love seat she was sitting in and waved her wand lazily over Malfoy, who immediately picked himself off the floor yelling.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you, woman!"

"Oh, do calm down, Malfoy. You'll strain yourself."

"I'll kill you, you filthy little Mudblo-"

Hermione cut him off, pointing her wand in his face. "Finish that statement, Malfoy. I dare you."

Draco looked like he was seriously considering it. He noticed his wand lying on the opposite corner of the room. Then he glanced at the Aurors in the room and seemed to think better of it. "Have it your way, Granger. Just get the hell out of my house."

At this Acer pulled Hermione aside. He whispered something to her, as her eyes grew wide and large. "Absolutely not!" Hermione yelled, backing away from him. "I won't do it. No way. I won't," she said closing her hands into tight fists. She then let out a long breath, her mind made up. "I _refuse_."

"Now Granger, you're being unreasonable. We're only giving you this assignment because we're confident you'll be able to take care of the situation," Acer said in a bored voice.

"_Situation_?! What _situation_?! You want me to baby-sit Malfoy!"

"What's this rubbish then?" Draco said advancing on the Auror.

"Mr. Malfoy..." he said not looking at all intimidated by Draco's anger. " Your father could have contacted any number of fellow Death Eaters. You are in great danger of being attacked again if you remain alone, especially if you stay here. So it is extremely important that we keep heavy surveillance on your home. Without you in it, of course." he added, handing Draco his wand.

Draco snatched it looking extremely peeved, but took a deep breath. "Fine," he said calming his nerves. "Fine. Then where will I be staying while you're doing all this?"

The corners of Acer's mouth twitched slightly before he answered. "With Auror Granger, naturally."

"WHAT?!" Draco and Hermione chorused.

This time it was Hermione who became irate. "Hold on just a moment! I don't want to share the same air as _that_!" she yelled, pointing an angry finger at Malfoy. "Let alone the same living quarters!"

Draco folded his arms and smirked. "I second the motion."

The Auror rolled his eyes, and smoothed his traveling cloak in preparation to leave. "You really don't have a choice. Either of you," he added as Hermione opened her mouth. "Granger, you will be playing host to Mr. Malfoy for an undetermined period of time. As a professional, I expect you to make sure that Mr. Malfoy remains safe, and comfortable," he added. Hermione grimaced at this. It was as though he could see all the ways Hermione was imagining how she could keep Draco "safe," withouthim being at all "comfortable."Acer continued. "Make sure to check and re-check the wards around your home. Dismissed."

He nodded to the other Aurors and they took hold of both Hermione's and Draco's elbows and escorted them out of the room.

Hermione glared at the wizard holding her arm. The thought that she far out-ranked him and any of Acer's other little helpers only angered her further. "I'm not a criminal, get your hands off me," Hermione said stiffly as they reached the door. The Auror released her and raised his hands in apology. She continued to stare daggers at the man.

"Follow suit, you idiot," Draco spat at the wizard still attached to his arm. The man looked harassed and let go.

Hermione snorted as she held the door open for Draco.

"Shut it, you."

"Malfoy, if-," she flinched as the front door shut loudly behind them. She continued. "If I were you, I'd be a helluva lot nicer to me, considering I just saved your life," she said glaring at him. He spared her a glare of his own but didn't say anything until they neared the gates minutes later.

"I don't owe you anything now, nor will I ever, Granger," Draco said as they approached the iron gates.

"So you're not the least bit grateful to me? Not even a little bit?"

"Not at all, actually."

Hermione stopped walking and scowled at Draco. He mirrored her stance. Hermione's brown eyes stared into Draco's grey ones. He really did have beautiful eyes she noticed. The most striking ones she'd seen actually, second maybe only to Harry's emerald ones. His grey eyes swirled like pools of smoke in a black cauldron. It was relaxing, like watching water cascade from a fountain. She found herself suddenly calm. Forgetting the situation she continued to stare. She might have imagined it, but for a moment there was an emotion in his eyes, besides the usual anger. Was it sadness? She had started to frown in contemplation, when Draco rolled his eyes. "Are you quite finished, woman? I'm already tiring of seeing you."

Hermione blinked and looked at him again. Whatever it was that she had seen was gone and was replaced with what was unmistakably recognizable as dislike.

"I loathe you, Malfoy."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Granger."

Hermione let out a frustrated growl as she grabbed Draco's upper arm. His eyebrow flew up, but before he could open his mouth they disappeared.

* * *

They arrived at Hermione's flat a moment later. Draco ripped his arm out of Hermione's grasp and took a look at his new surroundings. He cursed under his breath.

The place was much nicer than he expected. It was a modestly sized three bedroom flat. To his left there was the kitchen, a single coffee mug left haphazardly in the sink. He stood in the living room, where there was a large couch and a recliner. Across from the couch there was what he knew to be a muggle television set. It wasn't a particularly large space, but it was tastefully decorated, and had a very homey feel. He was surprised, actually. If he didn't have his mind set firmly on being as unpleasant as possible he would have complimented her style.

Hermione watched Draco looking around as she hung her cloak in the hall closet. _Probably thinking of something stupid to say about the decor_. She sighed, already tired of their constant bickering. She walked into the kitchen and began to make herself some tea. "Make yourself at home, I suppose," she said not looking up from her task.

"If you can call it a home," Draco sneered.

"Malfoy, we're really too old for this. Yes, we we've been enemies in the past. Don't get me wrong. I am by no means," she said glaring, "forgiving you for all the things you've done, but can we at least behave like adults and be civil to one another?"

Draco gave her a bored stare in response, ignoring her exasperation and looked at her features. She really had changed since he'd last seen her back at Hogwarts. She still had the same long brown hair, but it was sleek and shiny, instead of hopelessly bushy, and it fell into soft curls past her shoulders. She was still slim and tall, but at some point she had adopted some rather feminine curves. Draco had to admit that she was very easy on the eyes. She had a kind face, a small nose in the middle, full lips, and irresistibly big brown eyes. She was beautiful. He was honest enough to admit. But on close inspection, he could see that she looked exhausted, however pretty she was, as if she hadn't slept in days. Noting her profession, she probably hadn't. He turned his face away from her. Draco didn't sleep at night either, but for entirely different reasons.

For five years he lived completely alone. The only company he had was his elf and his owl, and he hardly considered them company. After his mother died he gave up all pretenses. He renounced all his old ways and associations. There was no one to tell him what to do, or influence his opinion. He never cared for the Dark Lord and cared even less when he was finally defeated. He continued to live alone at Malfoy Manor, ignoring the daily reminders of his past. Five years completely alone. And now he didn't know how to behave around people, least of all Hermione Granger.

He ran his fingers through his platinum blond hair. A familiar gesture Hermione noted. He had been silent staring at the blank television for several minutes. Her tea was getting cold.

"Draco?" she said hesitantly.

His head shook slightly and he turned to look her in the face. She had never called him by his first name before. Not that he could remember. It didn't sound half bad. It didn't have the usual bossy tone that "Malfoy" possessed when it came from her lips. It didn't sound bad actually. If he were honest he wouldn't mind hearing it again, but maybe under different circumstances. His imagination started to wander on to some very adult type situations when he smacked a hand to his forehead. _Where the hell had that come from? Did I just have dirty thoughts about Granger? Bushy-haired-know-it-all-Granger? I__**must**_ _be exhausted. _He put his head in his hands and let out a long labored breath. "I'm tired, Granger. Could I have a place to sleep?"

This caught Hermione off guard. Draco was never one to show any sign of weakness or fatigue. It was entirely out of his character, and a little disconcerting to see him upset. She found it was considerably harder to hate him when he was looking so lost and confused. Her face softened. "Yes, of course. There's a spare room just over here."

Draco followed her to the bedrooms in the back. There were two doors on one side of the hall and three on the other. She pushed one door open "This one is the bathroom you'll be using," she said. "And this is where you'll be staying," she said holding the door across from the bathroom open. He entered and immediately disliked the room. There was nothing particularly wrong with it, it just didn't feel right. "Harry used to stay in this room when we shared the flat," she said, immediately quelling his musing. _That might explain it,_ Draco thought. "I turned Ron's room into an office," she added fixing the pillows. "But they haven't lived here for years, so you can wipe that look off your face," she said crossing her arms. He narrowed his eyes at her and she continued. "There should be pajamas in the wardrobe." Draco opened his mouth to object. "Don't worry, they're not Harry's," she said cutting him off. He closed his mouth and sat on the edge of the bed and let her finish. "Anyway, it's a guest wardrobe, it accommodates to whoever stays in the room. You should find everything in it to your taste," she walked to the doorway and then hesitated. "There's a closet after the bathroom. My room..." she paused. "My room is the last one on the left. Knock if you need anything."

She turned to leave the room. "Granger."

She sighed heavily, "Hermione."

"Huh?"

"My name is Hermione."

"Fine then. Hermione."

"Yes?"

"Er… thanks," he said sheepishly. "I mean, I know you had to, or whatever, but... thank you."

Hermione blinked. Had Draco Malfoy just shown her gratitude? She stared at Draco open mouthed for a moment. Then at the look on Draco's face Hermione broke into her first smile since that morning. He looked pained, as if showing his appreciation had physically caused him anguish. She laughed. "You're welcome," she said closing the door behind her.

Draco looked at a clock on the wall. 10:32pm. It wasn't that late, but he was hopelessly tired. He ran his hands over his clothing. His dark green shirt was stiff with dried blood. He sneered, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it in the corner. He didn't want to remember anything about this day. Not the way his father tortured him. Or all the hateful things his father said to him. How humiliated he was when Hermione saw him laying there on the floor, crumpled and helpless. He almost wished his father would have killed him rather than live with the shame. _Almost._

With a flick of his wand the shirt vanished. He got off from the bed and walked to the wardrobe. He opened it and found it empty. "What the-?" But before he could finish a voice spoke out.

"Spin around, would you dearie?"

"Huh?"

"Just take a spin, dear," the wardrobe repeated.

Malfoy turned around once slowly. "That'll do." The doors snapped shut. Draco eyed the wardrobe skeptically, but slowly reopened the doors. He was pleasantly surprised to find the contents identical to those of his own closet. He fingered past his favorite sweaters and ran his hands over some of his jeans. _Hmm... Now where are my-_

"Pajamas in the bottom drawer, love," the wardrobe sang cheerfully.

"Er, thanks." He pulled out silver pajama bottoms, leaving the top as he always did. He put his wand on the nightstand and tried not to cringe as he slipped under the comforter. He didn't feel too happy about sleeping in Potter's old bed, he wasn't going to pretend. But he noticed that his skin wasn't crawling from lying in the bed. And the warmth of the covers and the softness of the bed were lulling his body into a relaxed state. He closed his eyes and soon fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Hermione shifted under her sheets, slightly disturbing a sleeping Crookshanks. He opened and eye, staring at her with disapproval. Hermione scratched behind his ears in apology, continuing in her musing. Draco Malfoy was sleeping under her roof, only doors a couple doors down. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about it yet. How was she supposed to explain him to people? What about Harry? Well, Harry would already know. He also worked as an Auror. There was no doubt that he would have heard something of the day's events. But Ron? Hermione didn't want to imagine how Ron in particular would behave. Seeing Draco would open so many old wounds. She couldn't forgive herself for putting them through more grief when their lives were finally going so well.

Harry and Ginny had rekindled their relationship after Voldemort's defeat and got married shortly after. Harry had finally become the Auror he aspired to be and Ginny was working with Luna at _The Quibbler_, which was now very popular. The two had been married for three years and were expecting their first child next month. Harry was finally getting to experience the family he never had. Hermione couldn't be happier for him.

Meanwhile, Ron and Luna had finally got together. He and Hermione had mutually ended their previous relationship, both realizing that their affection for each other was only friendship based. Luna and Ron however, were the perfect match. Luna's admiration for Ron was always obvious. Ron was royalty in her eyes, as she constantly reminded him with choruses of her favorite song, "Weasley is Our King." Ron had finally gotten a position on the Chudley Cannons, after trying out twice before. And ever since he had Luna by his side, Ron couldn't be happier. Luna gave him all the support and attention he so desperately needed, and he gave her all himself in return. Hermione expected Ron would be proposing soon...

And what about her? Things weren't bad; she had to admit to herself. She had a job that she was genuinely interested in and didn't waste her many talents. She had her own place, where she could relax and have her space. She didn't have a significant other at the time, but she hardly ever felt one necessary or significant. She had been involved with someone though, a friendly wizard named Rick Reed. He had golden brown hair, blue eyes, and a dazzling smile with perfect white teeth. He worked as an Unspeakable for the Ministry. Hermione could deal with the secrecy and the time he spent away from her while on the job. Most witches would give their wand hand to be with him, but Hermione couldn't stand him. A lot of her dislike had to do with the fact that he had an uncanny resemblance to Lockhart. But besides that… he was just too nice. He agreed with everything she said, which normally wouldn't bother her. What really upset her was that he never had an opinion of his own. There was no new insight between them, and no intriguing conversation. If she felt one way, he felt the same. She recalled being told once that when two people always have the same ideas, one of them was unnecessary. In this case it was definitely true.

Hermione let out a long breath and then roughly pulled a pillow over her head, trying to shut out her thoughts. She kept herself up like this every night. Thinking hours in to the night. She couldn't seem to shut her brain off long enough to fall asleep. She tossed and turned several minutes longer before she finally managed to drift into a troubled sleep.

* * *

_She was sixteen again, walking in muggle London. It was a bright day in the middle of January, and unseasonably warm. She looked down at herself to find she was wearing her old school robes and Crookshanks was trotting faithfully at her side. Peering down the street she saw Muggles going about their day, busily commuting to work, or doing some afternoon shopping. She couldn't help but notice that no one had stopped to stare at her in her wizarding clothes. In fact, she wasn't entirely sure that anyone could see her at all. She waved her hand in front of a passing woman's face to test the theory. Not so much as blink. Hermione frowned.__**What is going on?**_

_She continued to walk in silence. Occasionally she stopped to tap a shoulder, or call out to someone walking by, hoping for a response. But she received none. __**Why can't anybody see me? Hear me**__? She began to move through the crowded street, screaming at anybody that passed her, pulling her hair in frustration. She dropped to her knees; silent tears pouring down her cheeks. __**What's happening to me?**_

"_Hermione."_

"_Hello?" She looked around frantically, but suddenly saw no one. She sniffed, wiping the wetness from her face. "Who's there? Where are you?"_

"_Over here, Hermione."_

_She surveyed the street, seeing no one until her eyes passed over a shop window. Behind it a lone hooded figure stood in the darkness. They had a familiar presence, but Hermione could not make out any of its features from underneath its cloak. Transfixed, she pressed her hand against the window. She didn't know why, but she felt that she had to get inside the building. Something she desperately wanted, although she had no idea what, was on the other side of that glass, and she had to get to it._

_She scanned the building. There were no doors, or other openings. There was only the window, in front of which she stood. "How do I get in?" she called to the figure._

_A pale hand withdrew from the folds of its robes and tapped the window with its long slender fingers. "Break the glass."_

"_What?"_

"_Break the glass." It said, tapping the window again, with more force this time. "Break the glass!"_

_Hermione banged her fists repeatedly against the window, but it would not yield. "I can't!" she screamed back._

_The tapping became more aggravated. "Break the glass!"_

"_I can't! It won't break!"_

_TAP. TAP. TAP…_

"_BREAK THE GLASS!"_

Hermione awoke violently, in a cold sweat. She held a hand to her chest, allowing her heart rate to return to normal. Peering outside her window she saw that it was still night. The moon shone in, bathing her bed in blue light. Laying her head back down onto her pillow, she found her mind thankfully blank. She closed her eyes and managed to ease into a peaceful sleep.


	3. Good Morning

**Disclaimer: **JK owns all things Harry Potter.

Hey everybody! Thanks for all the positive feedback so far and another special thanks to Veronica for adding me to one of the Dramione C2s! I am really flattered. And to all the lovely people reading my fic, please leave a review and let me know what you think. My review count right now is rather dismal. lol. Enjoy the chapter!

Mikey

* * *

Tap... Tap. Tap...

Hermione, awake, let out a frustrated growl. _Not this again… _She rolled over in her bed, ignoring the noise. The tapping progressed, later accompanied by scraping and screeching, but she still didn't move. Then Crookshanks started mewing and pawing at the window, preventing her from disregarding the noise any longer.

"Yes, I'm coming. Hold on," she said stumbling out of bed. She dragged her feet across the room and then pushed an excited Crookshanks off the windowsill. "Sorry, love," she mumbled. He hissed and stalked off, as a tawny owl hopped in, exposing a letter tied to its leg. Hermione blinked trying to eliminate the blurriness in her eyes. She untied the letter and handed the owl one of the treats she kept handy near the window. The owl hooted its thanks and was off.

Hermione rubbed her eyes and read:

_Granger,_

_It is unnecessary that you come in to work today, seeing as you brought your work home with you last night. _

Hermione scowled and continued to read.

_Consider this like a paid vacation. As long as you don't let the assignment out of your sight and remain vigilant, you can basically do as you please, until told otherwise. You will be contacted if and when the situation changes. There is no need to respond._

_Sincerely,_

_Acer_

Hermione sniffed and went back to sleep.

Draco, however, was wide-awake. He had been up for quite sometime now and was trying to decide what to do with himself. He got up from bed, smoothing the sheets out of habit, and was about to leave the room when he remembered he didn't have a shirt on. He ran a hand over his well-toned chest, considering whether or not he'd be polite and put one on. He smirked when he decided against it and left the room.

He was on his way to the kitchen when a scratching noise stopped him. He turned around and moved towards the sound, stopping in front of Hermione's door. He hesitated and then slowly cracked it open. He bit back a yell of surprise as a large orange ball of fur ran between his legs. _That thing is still alive? _he thought. Draco shook his head in disbelief and then peered through the open door to see Hermione lying in bed asleep. _Wow..._ She was wearing only a pale blue silk night gown, her hair tossed here and there, looking extremely wild. Her blanket was thrown haphazardly across her body, exposing a bare thigh. Draco involuntarily gulped.

When had Hermione become attractive? So sexy? Draco remembered back at Hogwarts Hermione had never had the power to raise anything besides his temper. But now... She was endanger of raising a lot more. He tried to shake the image from his head, but failed. It had been so long since he felt a woman's touch. He longed to touch her, just to run a hand down her perfectly smooth leg. That of course, was entirely out of the question. _She was Hermione "Mudblood" Granger, after all_. But at that thought he frowned. _She was still a woman. A beautiful woman, at that. What did her lineage have to do with whether or not he could be attracted to her? What did it have to do with anything?_ He turned his head away from her sleeping form, contemplating. He took one more look before quietly closing the door behind him.

Draco made his way into the kitchen and was immediately greeted by a sour-faced Crookshanks. He frowned at the cat, trying to return the same look being given to him, but he wasn't sure his human features could display the same amount of unpleasantness.

"What the bloody hell is your malfunction, cat?"

Crookshanks proceeded to stare at Draco for another moment before leaping onto the counter top. He lazily walked around the sink, side stepped the coffee brewer and stopped in front of the toaster. He turned in a circle before looking up at the cabinet, then back at Draco. Confused, Draco looked at him quizzically.

"What?"

Crookshanks meowed a sound of derision and then rolled his eyes. Or at least Draco thought he did. He wasn't entirely sure that cats were capable of rolling their eyes. But if they were, the cat definitely did just that. Crookshanks meowed again to get Draco's attention. Standing on his hind legs, he pawed at the cabinet door. Draco, finally catching on, approached the cabinet. He reached out a hand, tentatively at first, as though expecting the cat to attack if he got too close, then opened the wooden door. Inside were several cans of cat food.

Draco scoffed, "That is so not my job, buddy."

Crookshanks made a terrible noise, bearing his claws, his hairs standing on edge. Draco jumped back in surprise. "Okay, you crazy beast! Calm down!" He immediately began searching the kitchen for a can opener, stopping every so often to throw the cat a dirty look over his shoulder.

After appeasing the cat, who was eating slowly, watching Draco out of the corner of his eyes, Draco looked into quelling his own hunger. He opened the refrigerator and started pulling out items.

* * *

Hermione awoke to the smell of eggs and bacon. She put on her robe before following her nose to the kitchen. When she got there she stopped dead in her tracks. Two places were set on the kitchen table, orange juice and a side of toast. On the floor Crookshanks was polishing off a bowl of cat food_. I didn't feed the cat_, she thought. _Malfoy had fed the cat._ And Malfoy. Bare-chested Malfoy was standing in front of her stove shoveling eggs from a pan into two plates with bacon. He placed the plates on the table, before looking up at her.

"Good morning."

"G-good morning," she said hesitantly.

"I made you breakfast."

"I see... Thank you."

Draco gestured to her seat, and she sat silently. Draco tucked himself in and began eating. Hermione watched him for several moments before finally giving attention to her food. _What exactly is he playing at making me breakfast? _She eyed him skeptically over her fork of untouched eggs.

"I haven't poisoned that you know."

Hermione blinked her head and blushed. "Oh, of course not." She ate her food quietly, watching Draco eat. He caught her looking and gave her look that said, "_What?_" at her from across the table. She shook her head. _What the hell was going on...?_

Draco laughed inside his head. Hermione was freaking out. It was quite entertaining. She looked so helpless in all her childlike confusion. It was hard to resist patting her on the back to comfort her. He watched her until she finished eating, and then cleared his and her dishes from the table. Hermione's eyes opened wide in shock, and it took all Draco had not to laugh. He started to wash the dishes and Hermione finally had enough.

"What the hell are you up to Draco?"

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently.

"You made me breakfast. You're washing the dishes. You're being mildly... pleasant. Why?"

Draco sat down in front of Hermione and looked her in the eyes. He held her stare for several moments before speaking. "You're allowing me to stay in your place, although grudgingly… I appreciate it… And… on top of all that… You saved me, Hermione. You saved my life yesterday. Before my father attacked me, I didn't even know what I was living for. And truthfully, I still don't know... But, I have figured out one thing... I do _want_ to live. I wasn't sure of that before you saved me. I want a new life. I haven't had a life since I left school. I want to start over." He looked at his hands. "I'm just thankful I was given a chance. I can't thank you enough for that."

Draco didn't raise his eyes. He had shocked himself. He was planning on putting her down, or at least giving her some lame excuse for his complacency. But when he opened his mouth, something deeper came out. It was sincere. He did want to live. And he was grateful. He looked up at Hermione, and felt his chest tighten.

She was crying. Her face was red, and blotchy. Tears ran down her cheeks and she swiped at them hastily.

"Hey, don't cry," he said looking around nervously, as though seeking help. "It's really not that serious."

"It is serious," she said sniffing. "You've changed… That horrible person you used to be would never be saying any of that. It's like you're finally human..." She straightened her face. "I never thought I'd be able to say that about you."

"Look, Granger," Draco began angrily.

"Hermione."

"Whatever," he said waving a hand. "I'm tired. I'm so incredibly tired of being miserable. I'm just trying to start over. Is that such a big a deal?"

She put her head down and sighed. "I don't know… Well no, of course not. I'm happy for you. Truly."

Hermione ran a hand over her face and looked up through her fingers. She glanced at Draco's form over the table. _Good Lord, that's a body._ She shook her head and quickly closed her eyes. "For God's sake, Draco. Put a shirt on."

Draco looked at Hermione and smirked. "No, I don't think I will, thanks."

She looked up angrily. "You are so rude. Can't you have a little decency? You are a guest in my home after all." She got up from her seat and crossed her arms.

Draco got up too and copied her stance. "It's really not that serious. Go ahead. Take a look. I don't mind." He smirked. "You act as though you've never seen someone half-naked before." He eyed her skeptically. "Or haven't you?"

Hermione looked outraged. "Why of course I have! And I don't see how it's any of your business!" She walked briskly into the kitchen to make herself some tea. "The nerve of you to ask such a thing." She paused with her hands on the kettle and sighed. _Why am I so upset? Calm down. Don't let him see you act this way. So it's been a while since you've been alone with such an attractive man. Certainly you could still behave like a mature adult? _She took a deep breath and went back to her tea.

Draco moved across the kitchen to lean against the counter where Hermione stood. He smiled inwardly to see her body stiffen from his presence. "What's got you so hot and bothered, Granger? Have I struck a nerve?"

Hermione glared at him over her mug, and was about to retort when there was a tapping at the kitchen window. The two both turned their heads toward the disturbance. An owl, different from the one earlier that morning, was waiting patiently in Hermione's morning glories. She immediately recognized it to be Persephone, Harry's and Ginny's owl. Hermione quickly opened the window to let her in. She shuffled in and held out her leg as Hermione untied the letter. She stayed long enough to get a pat on the head before ruffling her feathers and flying away. Hermione then started to open the letter.

"It's from Harry," she said aloud.

"I asked?" he said blandly, surveying his fingernails.

Hermione ignored him and eyed the letter with curiosity.

She read:

_Hermione,_

_Sorry to owl you so early in the morning. I know how you love to sleep in, but I heard you had the day off and I really could use your intellect on this little project of mine. Could you maybe come by the flat around 1 and help me out? I'll owe you one._

_Love,_

_Harry_

Hermione sighed. As much she would love to help her best friend out she really wasn't sure if she was up to it. Not because she was tired, but because she didn't want to bring Draco along. She stared across the kitchen at him. He happened to look up from his hands at the same time. He met her stare defiantly. "What?"

She put her index and her thumb to the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. "Go get dressed."

"Why?"

She sighed again and then took a long drink from her tea before replying, "We're going to Harry's and Ginny's place."

* * *

You like? Yes? No? Let me know in a comment!


	4. Easily Convinced

**Disclaimer: **JK owns everything Harry Potter, that lucky woman.

Author's Note:

Hey everybody! First of all let me apologize for taking so long on this chapter. The professors aren't cutting me an inch of slack and I finally had time today to get some recreational writing done. Anyway, thank you as usual for reading, and please, please, please leave a review. Enjoy!

Mikey

P.S.

Thank you everyone that has left me a review so far. I really appreciate it. You all are wonderful.

* * *

Draco stared at Hermione, unblinking.

"I am not going."

"Of course you're going. You don't have a choice," she said walking away from him, and down the hall. Draco moved from his position against the counter and followed her into her bedroom.

"Wait, just a minute, Granger…"

"_Hermione,_" she sang, opening her wardrobe.

"I know what your bloody name is, woman!" he growled in frustration, but Hermione ignored him, perusing her closet. Draco was huffing and puffing near the window when he said, "Look, I may have _changed_," he said putting his index and middle fingers up on both hands to make quotation marks, "But I am not going to pretend I like Potter _or_ his weasel of a wife."

"Don't call Ginny a weasel," she said, holding some khakis at arm's length, before putting it back on its hanger.

He rolled his eyes, "Like I said, I am not going. I'm a grown man. _Nobody _tells me what to do."

"Then what was Acer doing when he told you to get out of your own house?" Hermione mumbled under her breath, plucking a top from its rack.

"What was that?"

"What do you think about white before Labor day?" she asked aloud, eyeing the blouse.

"_What?_" Draco exclaimed incredulously.

"You're right, absolutely not." She put the blouse back in its place.

"Are you listening to me, woman?"

"Grown or not, Draco," she said, sounding very bored as she finally decided on an outfit, "I'm your caretaker for the time being and my job is to make sure no harm comes to you. And I can't very well do my job if you are not with me," she laid her clothes out on her bed and then walked to her bathroom, grabbing a towel from under the sink. "And since _I _am going to Harry's, _you _are _also_ going to Harry's. That's really all there is to it."

"Listen to me, Granger..." Draco said, chasing her.

She stopped halfway through opening the door behind which the toilet and shower were located, and raised an eyebrow, "Who?"

"_Hermione_," he said with a sneer.

She smiled sweetly, and batted her eyelashes, "Yes?"

"I am not going. And that's final."

"Yes, you are," she said cheerily, and shut the bathroom door behind her with a snap.

"I'm not going, Granger!" he banged on the door with his fist and yelled over the running water, "You hear me, woman? I am _not_ going!"

Hermione and Draco apparated outside Harry and Ginny's flat one o'clock on the dot. As they walked up to the door Hermione smirked at the look on Draco's face. He had mustered up the most sullen expression he could manage, and had it set firmly on his face. She had to admit, Draco wasn't too hard to convince. He had returned after she had a shower to remind her that he would not be accompanying her to Harry's, however he unwittingly left his wand on the nightstand in the spare room. So after Hermione finished getting dressed she "gently" hexed him into submission. Her experiences had thought her that a few well-placed curses could get any man to behave. She wasn't sure exactly how well Draco would respond to it, but she figured it worked on all the other men in her life. She used to hex Ron on a very regular basis and even Harry had gotten his fair share of curses. Although Hermione couldn't remember ever hexing Rick, it wasn't because she didn't want to. He was just never dumb enough, or smart enough, to disagree with her. All in all, Hermione didn't consider herself violent or mean, she was just a huge advocate of tough love. No harm in that.

So she didn't feel bad at all watching Draco's sour face. When the door opened, her smirk became a genuine smile to see Ginny Potter beaming at her from inside.

"Hey, Hermione!" said the red head. Ginny hugged Hermione as close as she could from behind her protruding belly and then stepped back so she could come through the doorway. She peered around Hermione to see who was still standing on the doormat. "Draco Malfoy?" she said, cocking her head.

Draco immediately changed his expression from distasteful frown to a cocky smirk, "The one and only, Weaselette."

"Mrs. Potter, thank you," she said unfazed. "Come in, Malfoy. This certainly is a surprise."

"What's a surprise?" Harry said walking into the foyer. He caught sight of Draco and stopped dead in his tracks. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I really couldn't tell you, Potter," Draco said, looking at Hermione from the corner of his eyes.

"I'm babysitting him until he can go back to his lair," Hermione said, tiptoeing to place a kiss on Harry's cheek.

"You're not babysitting me, woman."

"But you _do_ live in a lair."

"My _mansion_ is not a lair, thank you."

"Whatever puts you to sleep at night, Draco."

"I swear, woma-"

"Why don't we all step into the living room?" Ginny said loudly over their bickering.

"Great idea, Gin. I can tell Hermione about my little project." Harry said cheerily as they walked into the other room.

Ginny rolled her eyes at this as she eased herself slowly onto a sofa. Hermione quickly went to her side to help. "Thanks, love," she said gratefully. Hermione took a seat dutifully at her side. Draco, looking at the two made himself comfortable on the love seat across the room, unpleasant disposition having returned. Harry alone remained standing.

"On second thought, Hermione," Harry said, glancing down the hall. "Why don't we go into the study so we could get to work on this project, eh?"

"Harry dear," Ginny said, clearing her throat, "I think you have a good handle on that _project_ already, why bother Hermione with it when you have it under control?"

Harry frowned at his wife, "No, I don't think I have it under control. I need help and who better to ask than Hermione?"

Her voice got a little louder as she responded. "Well, it looks to me like _Hermione_ is currently busy with other, more important things," she said looking pointedly at Draco. "I think that this _project_ will only be a completely unwanted and _unexpected_," she said widening her eyes, "waste of her time."

Harry's eyes narrowed. Then he put on a bright fake smile, "Ginny," he said through his fake smile, "Sweetheart, could I talk in private for a moment, dear?" he asked pointing behind his back to the foyer.

"Of course, Harry dear," she replied with the same false sweetness plastered on her face. She started to raise herself from her seat, and Hermione got up to help. Ginny gave her a real smile, and then turned an angry eye back to Harry, "Excuse us just a moment." Harry put a hand on the small of her back and led her out of the room as they spoke heatedly in hushed voices.

Draco had been watching the exchange quietly with mild interest but now put his attention back on Hermione.

"I don't suppose you know what the hell that was about?"

Hermione shifted her gaze from the foyer to Draco and shook her head. "I haven't the foggiest, actually," she looked away again, biting her lip in concentration. This was a common gesture of hers. One that didn't go unnoticed by Draco. He shifted in his seat a little.

_Why does that turn me on? _He questioned himself. She wasn't doing anything particularly sexy, just biting her lip. She wasn't wearing anything sexy either. He looked down at her attire. She wore a black button down top with slim dark blue jeans and some comfortable loafers. It was tasteful. But yet, it was a completely average outfit. Why then was his heart beating slightly faster just to see her in it? He furrowed his brow and looked away. _You are not attracted to Hermione Granger, _he told himself. _Yes, and Father Christmas visits in July,_ another voice said. Draco sneered. _Shut it, you, _he thought. _Arguing with yourself again, Draco? You really have gone off your rocker. _Draco growled and clapped an angry hand to his forehead.

At this Hermione awoke from her daze. She looked at Draco with concern and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth.

"You don't look fine," she said getting up from her seat. She crossed the room to sit down next to him. His eyes widened in fear and he scooted as far as he could to the other side of the loveseat, which turned out to not be very far at all. Hermione moved closer to peer at his face. Draco fidgeted in his seat. "You look a little peaky," she said placing a gentle hand on his forehead, then on the side of his face. "Are you sure you're alright? Are you still in pain from yesterday?"

Draco stopped squirming enough to properly look at her. Her warm brown eyes showed such sincere concern that he calmed and softened a bit. He gave her a small smile, "I'm fine. Really." He placed his hand on top of hers and slowly removed it from his cheek. Hermione, although still skeptical, smiled back, their hands still slightly touching on the cushion. Draco glanced at this and was contemplating whether or not he wanted to do something about it when Harry and Ginny walked back into the room. Draco was surprised to see how fast Hermione flew to the other side of the loveseat. She folded her hands on top of her lap and sat as if she was there the whole time, looking completely composed and serene. She was fast, but not fast enough not to be seen by the couple walking in. Harry frowned and Ginny just looked up at him. "Like I was saying, dear. _Completely_ unwanted."

He looked away from Hermione and Draco to leer at her. "You don't know that." He looked back to his friend. "Hermione, could you come with me into the study please?"

Ginny folder her arms and rested them on her stomach. "Fine. Fine. Do what you want, Harry," She looked at Hermione, "I'm very sorry, Hermione. I just want you to know I am completely against this. It was entirely _his_ idea. Could you just humor him so _we_," she glared at Harry, "can all get over this?"

Hermione looked at Ginny bewildered, but got up from her seat. "Okay…" she gave Ginny a last confused glance as she followed Harry into the study.

Hermione saw only Harry as he closed the door behind them. "Harry, what is this all about? It's not like you to be so secretive. What is this project and why is Ginny so set about me having nothing to do with it?"

Harry looked at Hermione sheepishly. "Well, I haven't been completely honest with you. I didn't ask you here to help me with anything."

"Then why am I here, Harry?" Hermione asked sternly, placing her hands on her hips.

"Hermione, I'm gonna tell you, just promise me you won't be cross. Please, just hear him out before you say anything rash," Harry said pleading.

"Harry what are you talking about? Hear _who_ out? What is going o-"

"Hello, Hermione."

Hermione whirled around, her jaw dropping.

"_Rick?_"

* * *

Outside in the living room, Draco tapped his fingers on the armrest. He had been staring around the room for the longest while taking in his surroundings. It was clearly a wizard's home. Moving pictures of Harry and Ginny, the rest of the Weasleys, and Hermione were showcased on the walls, and picture frames on coffee tables. Next to a picture of Harry and Ginny kissing on their wedding day sat a magical calendar, the dates changing constantly from pastel blue to pink, counting down the time until the baby was to arrive. Draco observed that the little one was due in two weeks, the date glowing with stars circling around the numbers. He closed his eyes and imagined a small child with unmercifully messy red hair, freckles, and glasses. He smirked at the thought. Hilarious. He opened his eyes again and looked around the rest of the living room. It was a mixture of cherry wood, red, and gold; both magical and non-magical items adorning the space. It was luxurious, without being overly decorated or overbearing. It was nice, he could admit. Draco imagined it very much resembled the Gryffindor common room, although he had never seen it. It was just so very… Harry and Ginny. So, needless to say, Draco greatly disliked it. He glanced at Ginny who was seated across from him, looking extremely peeved. He followed her gaze to the door of the study and raised an eyebrow.

"So what's really going on then?"

Ginny smiled ruefully, shifting her eyes to Draco. "Rick is in there."

Draco looked at her quizzically. "Who the bloody hell is Rick?"

"Hermione's ex-boyfriend," she paused, rubbing calming circles over her swollen belly. "He's come to ask Hermione to take him back."

Draco made sure to keep his face even and void of any emotion while receiving this information. But inside he scowled. He didn't so much care that someone was pursuing Hermione. Her love life had absolutely nothing to do with him, after all. But to spring Hermione's ex up on her unexpectedly seemed very tactless, especially coming from a supposed best friend. He couldn't imagine Hermione being too happy with Harry right now. Draco chuckled and then said conversationally, "You're husband's a prat. You do know that, don't you?"

Ginny sighed. "He's not a prat. Meddlesome. But not a prat. Rick came over here last night looking extremely pitiful. He asked Harry if he could help him get some time with Hermione because he knew he couldn't get her to speak to him on his own. And Harry being too kind couldn't say no. So," she sighed again, "here we are."

Draco nodded and was silent. After a few moments he asked, "Does she still love him?"

Ginny laughed remorsefully, "She never loved him. She was happy for the time she spent with him, but I think it was more loneliness than love that kept them together, at least on Hermione's part," she said sadly. "They're all wrong for each other." Ginny looked at him calculatingly, "Why do you ask?"

"No particular reason."

She looked at him, a knowing look etched on her face, but she didn't press it. She started to get up smiling pleasantly, "Would you like some tea, Draco?"

Draco tore his eyes from the study door and back to Ginny, "Please." He rose to offer Ginny his hand and she didn't hesitate before beaming and taking it. She stood upright and steadied herself. Letting go of his hand and uttering a small "Thank you," she lead him into the kitchen.

* * *

Rick Reed was standing beside a bookshelf, looking very sharp, as usual, but also very nervous. Hermione hadn't even noticed him on her way in the room. She had been so intent on getting information out of Harry that she had completely missed him. Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times before finally asking, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, Hermione. You see, I-"

"Harry, what is he doing here?" Hermione asked, speaking over him.

"Will you give him a chance, Hermione? He has something to say."

"How could you just let me walk into this situation unaware of what was going on?" Hermione yelled. "Do you have any idea how inconsiderate that is, Harry? Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? What kind of friend does that?" Harry looked thoroughly uncomfortable and was about to defend himself when Rick spoke up.

"Hermione, I asked him to arrange a meeting for us as a favor. He was only trying to help me out."

"You shouldn't even speak to me right now. We ended things on good enough terms, Rick. Why can't you just leave well enough alone?"

"I love you," he said, his eyes pleading, "Hermione, I need you."

Hermione's eyes softened, but only a little. "Rick, you don't mean that."

"Yes, I do. I miss you. Why can't things just go back to how they were?"

"Things weren't alright the way they were," she said pulling her hair, frustrated.

"I'll just excuse myself, shall I?" Harry said moving quickly towards the door.

"I'm not through with you yet, Potter," Hermione said darkly pointing angry finger at him. "We'll be having a nice little chat when I'm finished here."

Harry flinched at this but proceeded on his way out, pausing to give Rick an encouraging smile, then closing the door behind him.

Rick sat down in an overstuffed armchair and gestured that Hermione do the same, "Could you just sit down so we can talk about this calmly?"

"I'd rather stand, thank you."

He nodded, "Standing is fine too," he gulped and trained his eyes somewhere around her knees for a long while, "Hermione, everything was fine," he finally said looking up. "What happened to us?"

"Everything was fine for you, but not for me." Hermione said quietly. "Not by a long shot."

"What did I do? I promise I can change, Hermione. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Rick. This right here is wrong. The two of us _together_," she said pointing back and forth between the two of them, "is what's wrong. We don't belong together, Rick."

"How could you say that?" he asked miserably. "How could you just all of a sudden stop loving me?"

Hermione scoffed turning away from him. "There was nothing 'all of a sudden' about it. I was distant. I was always distant. The fact that you couldn't see that only proves my point."

"Is there someone else?" he asked quietly.

Hermione turned her neck so fast she gave herself whiplash. She raised a hand to massage her neck and exclaimed, "Are you accusing me of cheating on you? How dare you? You know I would never do something like that. Of course, there wasn't anybody else."

"Then I just don't see wh-"

"Rick, we are finished. End of story. Please," she said placing a weary hand to her forehead, "Please just leave it alone. I am more than willing to be friends with you. But we can't be anymore than that. So please, just stop pressuring me about it."

Rick gave her a long, deep stare, before finally nodding and getting up. He walked towards her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her form stiffened, but she didn't shake him off. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean to upset you. You just have to understand how much I care about you," he sighed. "But I see your mind is made up. I promise you I won't bother you again." Hermione turned to look at him. He appeared hurt, but was trying admirably not to show it. "Goodbye, Hermione." And before she could respond he placed a kiss on her lips, fast and chaste, with more passion than Hermione could ever remember from him. Yet, however passionate it was Hermione did not feel that jolt of excitement his kiss should have elicited. She stepped back from him and gave him a weak smile. He nodded sadly, and made quick work of exiting the room. Hermione, emotionally drained, felt herself slide into his vacated chair.

* * *

Draco was the first to look up when Rick came into the kitchen. He and Ginny were sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping tea and Harry was at the kitchen table reading the Daily Prophet. Draco gave him the quick one up and immediately a foul taste filled his mouth. He looked too well put together. _Simply unnatural. How dare he walk around the place looking… just like Gilderoy Lockhart actually._ He cocked his head to the side, considering their resemblance for a moment before he remembered what Rick was doing here. He replaced his thoughtful look with an upgraded version of his usual sneer. Rick however, ignored Draco's presence completely and walked up to Harry, who looked up and folded his paper.

"No luck, mate?"

"None at all, actually. She hates me," he said staring out the kitchen window.

Harry looked at him sympathetically and gave him a manly clap on the shoulder.

"I highly doubt she hates you," Draco said suddenly, stirring his spoon around his teacup. "She just doesn't want to be with you."

Ginny made a very un-lady like snort in her tea.

Rick finally turned to look at him. "Draco Malfoy?" he said incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

"Minding my own business, what about you?" Draco said giving Rick an uninterested glance, as if to decide whether or not he cared for an answer.

Ginny who was mid-sip, choked. She coughed loudly and cleared her throat, placing a hand to her chest.

"Excuse me," she whispered hoarsely, trying her hardest not to laugh.

Rick opened his mouth to reply, but Harry cut him off.

"Come on, Rick. I'll walk you to the door." Harry eyed Ginny sternly and she had good grace enough to look slightly chastised. However, this was only for a brief moment, for she was smiling by the time he turned his back. Lucky for her, Harry didn't see this. He once again adopted a kind face and led Rick out of the kitchen.

"Draco Malfoy, I love you." Ginny said shaking her head and smiling as soon as Harry and Rick were out of earshot.

He merely put on his signature smirk and ran a hand through his perfectly platinum blond hair. "Everyone does."

Hermione entered the kitchen moments later and all smiles evaporated instantly. She looked as if someone had put flobberworms in her soup. Completely outraged.

"Where is Harry?" she said, her face stony.

Neither Draco nor Ginny hesitated before both pointing to the foyer.

"Thank you," she said shortly and quickly made a beeline towards Harry, her wand sending off red sparks in her right hand.

Ginny edged herself off her stool and moved as fast as she could to the doorway. She looked back over her shoulder.

"Aren't you coming to watch?" she asked, amused.

Draco smirked in response and dashed to peer around the corner as well.

* * *

A/N: So what do you think? Good? Yes? Kinda sorta? lol. Leave a review and let me know!


	5. Lost Yours

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything JK previously came up with )

Author's Note: Hey readers!

It has been quite a while and let me just say I'm sorry for my slowness. Papers, finals, work... blah, blah, blah. Boring stuff. Lol. But back to the story. A little interaction between the main characters. No actual relationship yet. I have the story rated R but I'm not sure if I will add too much adult content in the mix. The language might get a little provocative so maybe I'll leave the rating for safe keeping ) The chapter isn't nearly as long as I had originally planned but I think it leaves off at a nice place for the next chapter. Anyway, thank you so much for reading. Don't forget to leave a review!

Mikey

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Harry saw Hermione coming at him in slow motion. Her usual warm chocolate brown eyes were darkened with anger, so much so that they appeared to be almost black. Her face was a fierce shade of red and the lines in her furrowed brow told Harry clearly to run. However, when he tried to make his escape he found that he could not move his feet. Paralyzed from fear, he watched in horror as she approached. Hermione's hair blew angrily around her, which only added confusion to Harry's fearful state. How could her hair be moving like that? There was no wind blowing in the room. The thought puzzled his mind for a moment but he didn't have very much time to dwell for Hermione was rapidly gaining on him. Harry finally regained the use of his legs and quickly ran from the foyer to the living room. Darting behind the couch he threw up his hands in surrender.

"Hermione, please! Just wait!" Harry said ducking down to avoid the curse Hermione just sent his way. She followed it with another one, quicker this time. Harry's whose skills were still as sharp as ever barely had enough time to yell out 'protego.' He had managed to block her spell but the sheer force of it made him topple over an armchair.

"Have you lost your mind, Harry?"

"Have you lost yours?" Harry fired back, his eyes wide with shock. He picked himself off the floor, but was immediately back on it when he ducked to avoid another blow.

"No, Harry. I haven't lost my mind. But I know you have. You know how I know?" she asked scathingly. She pointed her wand angrily at him. "You bringing that man in here lets me know you've lost your mind. You not asking me if I wanted to speak to him let's me _know_ you've lost your mind!" She threw another curse. He managed to dodge that one too, although narrowly. The spell hit the spot where his head just was leaving an angry burn in the wall.

"Hermione, my living room!" Harry moaned staring at the smoking wallpaper.

She took advantage of his pause and next thing he knew he was hanging upside down, arms and legs locked to his side.

"Now I've got you, Potter." Hermione said menacingly. "You wanted to invite people over here to play my love life like it was some sort of children's game, did you? I've got some children's games for you. How about I conjure a stick and beat you like a piñata? Huh, Harry? Does that sound like a fun game to play?"

Harry shook his head fearfully. "No, Hermione. It doesn't sound like any fun at all. Please, I'm so sorry. Let me down."

"No, I don't think I will. I don't think you've learned your lesson yet," she said twirling her wand between her fingers.

Harry's eyes widened. "Hermione, yes I have. I was wrong. So wrong. I shouldn't have tricked you into seeing Rick. It was stupid. Please, Hermione. All the blood is rushing to my head. Just let me down."

Hermione let out a deep breath and looked at him for a long moment. Harry looked sincerely contrite and extremely scared. She smirked a bit. She would never seriously harm Harry, and he knew that. Harry could be a little doltish at times, especially when it came to matters of the heart, but he was one of her best friends and he had the best of intentions (usually) when it came to her. Hermione sighed and waved her wand lazily. Harry wiggled before falling to the floor with a heavy thud.

"Damn Hermione, you couldn't let me down any softer than that?" he said rubbing a now sore shoulder.

"You deserved it, you idiot," Hermione said folding her arms and turning up her nose.

"Come on, Hermione. Don't be like that." He walked up to her, slowly at first. When he seemed convinced that she wasn't going to attack he pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm sorry 'Mione. I really am," he said quietly.

Hermione, never one to enjoy confrontation, immediately relaxed in her friend's arms and hugged him back. "You're a right little git, Harry. But I forgive you," she said closing her eyes.

The two of them held each other and stood that way in companionable silence. Around the corner Ginny smiled. "Aw… How sweet," she said quietly as the two parted. Harry ruffled Hermione's hair affectionately and Hermione punched him softly on the shoulder.

Draco however pretended to get sick behind her back. Ginny rolled her eyes. She gave them one more glance before returning to her perch in the kitchen, Draco trailing behind.

Harry and Hermione walked into kitchen, Harry looking humble and Hermione still slightly red from her outburst.

"Let him off easy, eh?" Ginny said looking at the damage around the room. She repaired it all with a few flicks of her wand. "I don't know why you just don't listen to me, Harry. I was only trying to save you some pain," she said taking a seat on the couch.

Harry shrugged and sat down next to her. He kissed the side of her head. Then bending over, kissed her stomach as well. He spoke to her belly in quiet tones. "Daddy, will never learn. He's just a sucker for a sob story, eh little one?" Ginny looked at her husband lovingly as he rose back up and entwined her fingers with his. They sat that way smiling at each other, lost in each other's eyes. Meanwhile Hermione watched longingly from the outside. How she wished she could have something close to the love they shared. It was beautiful really. They weren't perfect. No couple was. But even when they fought it was obvious that they adored one another. It showed in every glance, every smile. Even a frown translated into 'I love you.' Hermione would give her wand to have that sort of relationship. Sure Rick was fond of her, and he was blatantly amazed by everything she did, but she could never say the same about him. They didn't compliment each other, as Harry and Ginny did. Her weaknesses were never his strength. He never succeeded where she would fail. They were two people that had nothing to offer each other but mutual respect. And that wasn't nearly enough. She needed more.

Draco, who had been faking ill again, finally looked up when he realized he was the only person still in the room, mentally, at least. He looked at Harry and Ginny. They were lost in their own little world of pre-baby bliss, no surprise there. He turned to Hermione and found that she too was far away, but in a different place. What was that emotion on her face? It was such an odd look to him. One he couldn't place at first. Her lips were slightly parted, as though she was about to say something, but couldn't find the words. Her eyes were misted over and distant, as if she was looking miles away, wishing she was somewhere else. Then he saw it. Longing. Draco immediately looked away, embarrassed. It made him uneasy to see her so unguarded. So raw. He wouldn't want anybody watching him if he was looking so lovesick. But was she so wrong? To want what Harry and Ginny have? That feeling they had? He decided that no, she wasn't. He could only dream that someone would look at him the way Ginny looked at Harry. With sheer love and pure admiration. What had he done that deserved admiration? He couldn't think of anything in particular and that thought bothered him. Deciding he'd done enough observation, he cleared his throat loudly, bringing everybody back to the real world. The two lovebirds stopped giving each other goo-goo eyes and Hermione snapped out of her reverie.

"Granger, it turns out that I don't feel my one hundred percent after all," he drawled. "Are you quite finished?"

"Oh, yes," she turned to Harry and Ginny. "I guess we'll just be on our way then." She moved to hug them both while Draco waited at the door.

"Expect an owl from me later on this week, Hermione!" Ginny called as they walked away from the doorstep. Hermione only waved in reply. After passing the anti-apparation ward Hermione looked at Draco, waiting for his okay. He took a deep breath and nodded. She then took a hold of his arm and they disappeared.

* * *

When they landed in the living room, Hermione immediately turned to examine Draco. "I knew you didn't look well. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Stop fussing, woman. I'm fine."

"Then why did you-"

"I was getting sick of Potty and the Weaselette," he said disgusted. "They were being all… cute." He shuddered.

"Oh, Draco." Hermione said stretching out on her couch. "Jealousy doesn't become you," she said turning on the television.

"Why, if we aren't the pot calling the kettle black…" he mumbled under his breath, taking the seat furthest from her.

"What did you say?" Hermione said sharply.

Draco looked at her plainly and said audibly, "You are the last person who should talk about jealousy."

"Oh, really?" Hermione crossed her legs and folded her arms with a defiant look on her face. "Please, Draco. Elaborate."

"Ah, feigning ignorance doesn't become you either, Hermione," he said smiling coolly. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." He walked behind Hermione and bent down low to speak in her ear. "You were practically drooling over the two of them. Wishing you had the same disgustingly sappy romance. It was all over your pretty little face," he said quietly, running a long finger slowly up and down her cheek. She closed her eyes and shivered but didn't move. "When you look at them you don't see your two friends. You see yourself, and a mystery man. But you never see his face," he continued, still softly touching her face. He couldn't figure out for the life of him why he was getting so personal with her, but somehow he couldn't stop himself. He was upsetting her emotionally, and physically, by the looks of things. The knowledge of this pleased him so he didn't stop. He inched closer to her so that she could feel his breath on her neck. He watched goose bumps appear and the color rise in her cheeks. He smiled. "No, you don't know his face," he continued. "But he's strangely familiar. You see him in your minds eye. But you don't know who he is. You wish he'd come save you from this lonely, mundane life." Hermione let out a low breath. "You don't hide your thoughts as well as you thought, princess. You're jealous. Admit it."

At this her eyes snapped open angrily. He was wearing a smug 'I know your little lonely secret' face and that bothered her. Hermione prided herself in the fact that she didn't need anyone but her to be happy. But lately, this was quite the opposite. There was many a night when she longed for companionship but she would never tell anyone that. The fact that Draco could see through her was enough to make her upset. "I don't know what you are talking about," she said. "I am not jealous of Harry and Ginny. I am terribly happy that they're together and admire that they made it this far as well as the fact that they are still very much in love. But no, I am not jealous," she said, her face inches from his. "And I don't even know why I'm discussing this with you. As though you, as cold as you are, are even capable of feeling anything close to love."

Draco's face fell and Hermione immediately regretted her words. Draco nodded his head silently and then stood up.

"Draco, wait," Hermione started. Draco held up a hand to silence her.

"Low blow, Granger. Even for you." He raked a hand through his hair without giving her a second look and walked purposefully from the room.

When he got into his room he let the door the shut loudly behind him. The nerve of that stuck up know-it-all. He knew his life was more or less void of any female companionship. He could even be okay with it. But how dare _she_ speak of his non-existent love life? What business was it of hers? He thought angrily, pacing the room back and forth. From the looks of things, she wasn't doing too well in that department either. He didn't need her passing any judgment on him. Just because she was so damn near bloody perfect. Just because she had an attractive wizard professing words of love and throwing promises of commitment at her feet she thought she was better than him… He let out a frustrated growl. She was. Draco Malfoy had come to the realization that he was jealous of Hermione Granger. And judging by his reactions to earlier situations, he may even be attracted to Hermione, if only a little bit. Draco sighed and ran both hands through his hair. He was starting to think he'd be lucky to have any hair left at all by the end of this ordeal. Letting out a low breath he went to fall down moodily on the bed, but immediately changed his mind when he saw there was already something sitting on it. Crookshanks sat comfortably curled up in the middle of the bed looking at him defiantly. Draco, mentally exhausted, couldn't find the strength to fight with the cat. "Scoot over," he drawled, sitting down on the side of the bed. Crookshanks scrutinized him for a moment but shifted slightly. Draco laid his entire body on the bed and exhaled deeply. "That woman is going to be the death of me, cat." Crookshanks looked at Draco for a long moment and then did something very unexpected. He stepped lightly onto Draco's chest and sat down, keeping his eyes locked on Draco's the entire time. They stared each other down for what seemed like an eternity, but neither faltered. Draco narrowed his eyes but slowly raised a hand and patted Crookshanks awkwardly on the head. When he didn't get bit or scratched, he pet Crookshanks again, more surely this time. Crookshanks closed his eyes, lowered his head, and let out a small purr before going to sleep. Draco smirked to himself. First he becomes friendly with the Weaselette and now he's laying down cuddling with the demon cat. "It's been a strange, strange day," he finally decided.

Hermione growled under her breath. How was it that Draco could get under her skin like that? The thought both frightened and excited her. Anybody else she could have easily fooled, but not Draco for some reason. Everything about him was so intuitive. She would have never known in Hogwarts how very observant he was. And why, why was he so deathly close to her just then? What was he trying to do? If unnerving her was his purpose he had definitely succeeded. And that remark she made. Hermione put her face in her hands. It was such an unnecessarily cruel thing to say. She didn't even know half of what Draco's life was like; it was very presumptuous of her to say something like that. She sincerely wanted to apologize, but her pride or maybe more her fear, was getting in the way. Being so close to him she came to find out was very dangerous. Hermione would be a fool to pretend she wasn't extremely attracted to him. She was hoping it was more because of the fact he was a male in her close proximity rather than any sort of emotional attachment. That would be far easier to ignore. But this electricity she felt between the two of them posed as a threat. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be ready to explore it's meaning entirely.

Hermione watched seventeen minutes pass by on the clock in her living room before getting up off the couch. She walked into the hallway and paused in front of Draco's door. She made to knock on the door several times but stopped herself. She slapped her hands to her face trying to get a grip on herself_._ Hopping up and down, and then shaking out her hands she knocked smartly on the door and waited. Moments passed by and she could hear no movement on the other side of the door. She knocked again and still no response. Hermione frowned and put her hand on the knob and slowly turned.

When she saw what was on the other side of the door she would not have been more surprised if she had walked in on the Easter Bunny having tea with the Tooth Fairy. Draco was asleep with Crookshanks on his chest. Draco had one hand lightly on Crookshanks back, as if he had fallen asleep petting him. Hermione's eyes softened and a small "aww" escaped her lips. She was drawn further into the room and slowly let sat down at the edge of the bed making sure not to wake the two. She smiled and affectionately pet her cat on the head a few times before focusing her attention on Draco. Hermione's heart seemed to beat harder in her chest as she gazed upon him. He really was beautiful to look at. In his sleep his face was unmarred by his usual scowl. His expression was relaxed, pure and pristine like that of an old Victorian painting. His platinum hair fell softly over his forehead and Hermione's fingers itched to brush the hair out of his face. She thought about it for only a moment and then gently moved the hair from his face. She let her fingers stray on his skin and before she knew it she was lightly tracing all the features of his face. She was not aware of how long she sat like that, running her fingers over his skin but she knew that it was relaxing sitting with him like this. She smirked at the realization that she enjoyed his company considerably more in his sleep. Still smiling she glanced at the clock on bedside table. She sighed. She should probably get dinner started for the two of them. It was the least she could do after he made her breakfast that morning and after thoroughly offending him that afternoon. She absently ran a thumb over his cheek, remembering why she came in there in the first place. She slowly bent over Draco and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She quietly got up and patted Crookshanks on the head before leaving the room. Draco waited until he heard the door closed before opening his eyes.

Draco stared at the ceiling contemplating Hermione's visit. He placed a hand to his cheek and let out a long, deep breath. He had never let anyone touch him like that. He was sure he didn't know why he let Hermione. He was a light sleeper and had awoken the instant she knocked on the door. Instead of answering, he chose to ignore her, hoping she would leave, but she didn't. She entered the room and when she sat down his mind began to panic. He fought himself to remain still but as soon she put her hand on his face he immediately froze. He tried not to visibly stiffen but as her fingers made their way over his face he found himself relaxing. It was so soothing to be touched like that. He would of liked nothing more than to let her touch him all day. And that thought alone frightened him. His emotions were so mixed up he didn't know how to deal with them. He wanted to stay mad at Hermione, but he just couldn't stay upset with her after she had apologized in such a way. He let out a frustrated growl and stretched his arms over his head. He wasn't sure he could keep his angry façade much longer when Hermione made him feel so calm. Draco carefully moved the sleeping cat from his chest and placed him on the bed. Crookshanks stirred but didn't wake. He too pet the cat before leaving the room.

He was about to walk into the living room but stopped short in the hallway. Hermione was dancing around the kitchen, spoon in hand, to the wireless playing in the living room. She dipped the spoon in a pot, tasted and then nodded her head in time with the music. She belted the lyrics into her spoon while Draco walked into the room. He stood in the doorway with a small smile playing on his lips. She was so into it she didn't notice Draco until she backed up into him during her guitar solo.

Hermione let out a high-pitched scream.

Draco smirked. "Damn, woman my ears."

"I'm sorry. It's just you startled me."

"And your singing startled me. I wouldn't quit my day job if I were you. Although I must say that was terribly entertaining, Granger," he said peeking into a pot.

Hermione smiled uneasily. "Draco. I wanted to apolog-"

"Don't worry about it."

"But," she started again.

"I said don't worry about it. I was acting a little '_unsavory'_ so I shouldn't have expected you not to retaliate. I'm…"

"You're what?"

"Could you let me finish, woman? Damn, I don't do this often so don't interrupt me."

The sides of Hermione's mouth twitched at his agitation. But she raised her hands in surrender and acquiesced.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm sor…" he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry."

Hermione chuckled. "Wow. That was nice. Did you strain something?"

"Nearly," he said scowling, but Hermione could see the smile in his eyes.

They stood in the middle of the kitchen staring at each other for what seemed to be forever until the pot on the stove began to bubble over.

"Oh!" Hermione yelled dropping her spoon and pulling her wand out of the waistband of her jeans. She quickly turned off the flame and cleaned up the mess. She turned to Draco and smiled innocently and said. "Dinner's ready."

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Finished? Leave me a review let me know what you think!


	6. May Day

**Disclaimer: **I own only the plot.

Author's Note: Hey there readers!

Since I took so horribly long to update the last chapter I decided to post the next chapter early! I also just recently noticed that someone added my story to the C2 HP's Lush Pairing: Dramione. Thank you whoever you are! I'm really flattered. Anyway, quite a bit going on in this chapter. It's mostly from Hermione's point of view and she starts to realize just how much of an effect Draco has on her. I hope you all enjoy it!

P.S.

Thank you everybody for reading and for all the wonderful reviews :)

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It had been two weeks since the incident with Lucius and Draco was still sharing her flat as per request of her boss Acer. Investigations were still underway at the Malfoy Manor, however slowly. Former Death Eaters were still trying to contact Draco, and two had even come to call. These two had immediately apprehended, but they didn't get too much information from them. The Aurors still had no clue as to how many were still out there and the Death Eaters did not have any idea as to where their former correspondent had disappeared to. Needless to say, everybody was frustrated. Probably no one more frustrated than Hermione. When Hermione had found out that she would be playing host to Draco Malfoy she was sure that his presence would drive her up the wall. She had no idea however just how right she was. The day after the Death Eater visit Acer had come to inform Hermione that she and Draco were not to leave her flat. With the Death Eaters aware of Draco's absence they would be sure to double their efforts in order to find him. In response to this, all sorts of Ministry secrecy charms and wards were placed on her home and she and Draco were forced into house arrest. No one was to come in. No one was to leave. Hermione had been alone in her flat with Draco for nine days straight. She wanted to cry.

Her flat used to be a place of comfort. A place where she could come home from a long and stressful day at work and relax, a place where she had room to breathe. Now it was a place that was stuffy, with too little space, constricting and uninviting. She had never felt less at home in her own residence. And Draco had done absolutely nothing to help the matter. Everyday she spent with him she grew more and more agitated. Ever since their little spat Draco had become someone she did not recognize. She was watching his every move, waiting for him to do something characteristic of the old Draco, but she watched in vain. So she made her mind up to do anything possible to draw his old ways out. One day she decided to purposefully spill her orange juice in Draco's lap. She quickly started apologizing lamely, pretending to be stricken with fear at his reaction. No luck. He cleaned it up with a simple cleaning charm. Laughed off her apology and poured her another glass. She tried again. The next morning she walked into the kitchen, her hair wrestled into the messiest bun imaginable, dressed in a big white t-shirt and her most embarrassing pair of flannel pajamas bottoms, a number she picked up in her sixth year at Hogwarts. They were royal blue with stars and little flying cows that traveled back and forth from the waistband down to the hem. She just knew that Draco would have something smart to say about them. So when she walked into the room that morning she watched him from the corner of her eyes, waiting. When they finally made eye contact, he gave her a small smile, said "Good morning" and handed her a cup of tea from behind the Daily Prophet he was holding up. Hermione's eye twitched. The day after that she decided to spend the entire day with her nose in a book. She didn't put it down to do anything. Not eat breakfast, feed Crookshanks, go over some paper work Acer had sent from her office. She waited all day for Draco to make a comment about it. Call her a bookworm. Anything. He had never missed a chance to poke fun at her habits in school; she didn't see why things would be any different now. All day she walked around with the book and finally, after they had finished eating dinner, Draco spoke up.

"What is it that you're reading so intently?"

That was not the reaction she was anticipating. "Excuse me?"

"That book. You've been reading it all day. What's it about?" he asked leaning in closer.

"Oh this?" she said looking at the title of the book. She had been so focused on getting Draco to be rude to her she hadn't given the book much thought. She quickly glanced at the title of the book before answering him. "It's called Madame Bovary, by Gustave Flaubert." She closed the book, looking at the cover fondly. "It's about a common man who marries a woman with extremely romanticized ideas of life. The two have a very complicated and unhappy relationship. Madame Bovary ends up in an affair and Charles, her husband, tries desperately to keep her happy, but it was all for naught in the end... It's really a very good story," she said with a small smile thinking of the characters. As delusional as Madame Bovary was, she shard some similar issues. Struggling with a mundane, unsatisfying life. Realizing that what you originally wanted wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. It was a sobering read and more than a little ironic that she picked it up on accident. She looked at the book again and she immediately became embarrassed. "But I'm sure you wouldn't be interested. It's silly, really," she said starting to get up.

But before she could leave her seat completely Draco's hand caught hold of her wrist. "Read it to me."

Hermione stopped mid-stand and said, "Come again?"

"I've never really been one for novels but this one must be good because you can't seem to put it down. I'm curious. Will you read it to me?"

Hermione wasn't prepared for that request either. She quickly ran through a list of excuses. "Um, here," she said pushing the book across the table to him. "Why don't you read it yourself?"

Draco pushed the book back at her. "I get distracted too easily. I'll pay attention if you read it. Please."

"I don't think it's really your style…" she said fishing for an excuse.

"Perhaps not, but there's only one way to find out."

Hermione looked around desperately and then fixed her eyes back on the book. "It really is a long read," she said finally.

Draco smiled at this. He motioned around the room as if asking her to find something better to do and said, "Neither one of us has anywhere to go. We've got nothing but time."

So she finally gave up and began reading. She started off a little shaky. Occasionally slipping on a word out of nervousness. But the longer she read, the more comfortable she began to feel and the words ran fluidly from her lips. She was surprised at how easy it was to read to Draco. She was even more surprised at how attentive he was. He watched her carefully, taking in the story, absorbing her words. He stopped her only once, in which he got up from the table and took the book from her. Putting a finger between the pages to hold her place he closed the book, and with his other hand he took hold of Hermione's wrist and lead her into the living room. Upon reaching the sofa he handed it back to her and sat down putting a throw pillow behind his head and getting comfortable. Hermione hesitated only slightly before sitting down next to him and continuing the story. Hours later when the clock struck one o'clock she paused and looked at Draco. Sometime during her reading, Crookshanks had hopped up on the sofa and into Draco's lap. Hermione, who had been too engrossed in her reading, hadn't even noticed. Draco's head was burrowed in the crook of the couch and his eyes were closed, his breathing steady and even. Hermione smiled and was about to close the book when Draco called out, eyes still shut.

"Why did you stop?"

"Because you're falling asleep," she said stretching her arms above her head.

"I wasn't. I was only resting my eyes," he said opening an eye to peek at her.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Call it what you want. It's late."

Draco glanced at the clock on the wall. "I suppose you're right." He shifted Crookshanks off his legs and let out a cat-like yawn. "Thank you for reading to me, Granger. I really enjoyed it." He placed a hand on her knee and gave it a friendly squeeze, his grey eyes looking directly into her chocolate brown ones. "Goodnight."

Hermione's heart beat roughly against her rib cage. She gulped. "G'night."

And that's how each of her endeavors ended. She tried little meaningless things to goad a response out of him. But nothing she did seemed to annoy Draco. He was being incredibly pleasant, even sweet at times. Hermione didn't know how to bring the old Draco back. And what she couldn't figure out is why she wanted the old Draco back. To be perfectly honest with herself she was sure Draco had always been a calm person at heart. He couldn't just be Draco in front of the people he used to surround himself with. Now that he had no one to impress he was relaxed and Hermione didn't know how to digest his new persona just yet. The fact that she couldn't remove herself from his presence to think was not helping matters either. But it was no excuse. Hermione was somewhat ashamed of herself for stooping to such childish measures just to feel some sort of normalcy. Why she couldn't accept the situation for what it was beyond her. She looked at heavenward and sighed.

"Enough foolishness, Hermione," she said to herself. And with that she got up and went to bed.

The next morning Acer was scheduled to come and collect a grocery list from Hermione and Draco. The only people who knew about the two were the Aurors, Harry and Ginny. Acer made sure to personally deliver any messages to make sure no foul play was at work, so naturally it was he that saw about anything Hermione and Draco needed in the flat.

Ten o'clock on the dot Acer appeared out of the fireplace dusting the ashes off of his cloak. Draco, who was in the living room, looked up from his book and nodded. Much to Hermione's surprise, he had chosen to finish off the rest of Madame Bovary by himself.

"Acer."

"Malfoy," he returned nodding curtly. "Where is Hermione?"

"In the shower. She should be out shortly," he turned back to the book.

"And…?"

"And what? That's it." He turned his face back to his story.

Acer seemed a little put off by this. "That's all you have to say?" he asked looking slightly amused. "You're not going to ask me about the investigation? Or when you're going to be allowed back into your home?"

Draco looked up from behind the book and considered Acer for a few moments. Finally he shook his head unconcerned and said, "No, not really interested."

"Why wouldn't you be interested in when your own affairs?" Acer asked raising an eyebrow.

"Because if you must know, I've never been more at peace than the moment I stepped foot outside of that hell hole. I hate that house. And after this whole mess is sorted out, I have absolutely no intention of going back there." He closed the book and set it on the cushion next to him. "Does that answer your question?"

Acer smirked and was about to reply when Hermione entered the room, in jeans and t-shirt, hair still wet.

"Oh, sir! I wasn't expecting you until at least eleven," she said glancing at the clock on the wall.

"No matter," he said waving a hand. "Where's your list?"

"Just a moment." Hermione left the room and returned moments later with a rolled up piece of parchment.

Acer took it and opened it. He read through the list and then spoke. "Well, if this is all, I'll be on my way. There hasn't been any significant break through in our investigations so there is nothing to update you on." He made to pinch some Floo powder from a pouch he pulled out of his pocket when Hermione interrupted him.

"Sir, please. I have a request."

Acer looked mildly interested. "Oh? What is that, Granger?"

"Draco and I would like to leave my flat, sir."

"We've been through this, Granger. Until we get these Death Eat-"

"Not permanently, just a visit somewhere. Anywhere. We can't stand it anymore."

Draco raised an eyebrow at this. "Did I say that? I don't recall ever saying that. I'm perfectly content right here."

Hermione gave him the evil eye and Draco pretended to shudder.

Ignoring him, she continued. "It's not healthy to be cooped up like this. We need fresh air. And to stretch our legs. Please, sir. I'm going crazy in here."

Acer considered her for a moment. "Fine. I'll make arrangements for you to go out to Diagon Alley. Nowhere else." He turned to Draco. "You're going to be under disguise, naturally."

Draco made to object, but Hermione clapped a hand over his mouth. "Thank you, sir. We really appreciate it."

Acer merely nodded. "I'll be in contact with you." And with that he threw some powder into the fireplace and disappeared within the green flames.

Draco tore Hermione's hand from his face and said, "Why didn't you tell me you were getting cabin fever?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. But aren't you starting to go a little crazy from being trapped in here?"

Draco got up from the couch, and walked into the kitchen, Hermione at his heels. "No, not really." Hermione was about to object but he cut her off. "Listen. I've spent months at a time in a self-imposed imprisonment. I had myself locked up without proper food, without proper entertainment, without proper company." He looked away from her. "I've honestly never felt better than I do now. I'm perfectly content right here."

Hermione put a friendly hand on his shoulder. Draco sighed. "But I would like very much to get some exercise." He looked up at Hermione, and she smiled.

* * *

Hermione walked down the semi-crowded street with Draco, sincerely grateful to be out of her flat. They were on their way to meet Harry, Ron, Ginny and Luna for lunch and she couldn't be happier. Draco had been less than enthused to sit down for lunch with his former enemies skulked, which coincidently, did nothing but improve Hermione's cheery mood. She smiled and looked at Draco, whose hair was now a strawberry blond and shorter. His eyes had been changed from their usual grey to a dark hazel. His chin was slightly less pointy and his cheek bones a little less defined. These changes alone made him almost completely unrecognizable. The passerby could walk past him and be none the wiser to his real identity. According to Acer, Draco was to be referred to as Rylan Withers, Hermione's work colleague and an Unspeakable if anybody asked. Hermione looked up at Draco skeptically. She knew Draco's appearance better than she cared to admit, and personally didn't believe that his disguise would deceive anybody. However, when they happened to pass Lavender Brown in the street she was amazed at how well it had fooled her.

"Hermione! Hey, Hermione! Over here!"

Hermione whipped around to see Lavender running across the street to meet her.

"Hey Hermione, I haven't seen you in ages!" She pulled Hermione into an exaggeratedly big hug and Hermione patted her on the back awkwardly.

Finally letting go, Lavender took a step back to look at her. "Wow, Hermione. I don't know what it is but you look different…" She did seem to be glowing. Maybe it was the fact that she had not left her house in several days. That she hadn't seen her best friend Ron since Quidditch season had started. Or that she would become 'Aunty Hermione' any day now when Harry and Ginny's baby was born, or possibly because she was spending a casual afternoon with Draco Malfoy and was admittedly happy about it. Hermione knew that Lavender didn't know any of this but she still was a little embarrassed to have her pick up on her excitement so easily. Draco was right, she didn't hide her feelings as well as she would like. Lavender however simply looked Hermione up and down and then finally noticed Draco. Her eyes widened and then narrowed evilly. "Whom might this be, Hermione?"

Draco, gracefully taking on his role, amiably put out his hand in introduction. "Rylan Withers. And you are?"

"Lavender Brown. Nice to meet you Rylan."

"The pleasures all mine, Ms. Brown," Draco said smiling.

Hermione meanwhile silently snickered at Draco's little performance, but immediately stopped when Lavender blurt out, "Oh my! Isn't your boyfriend charming! You better hold on to this one!"

Hermione's mouth opened appalled. "Oh no. He's not my boy-" she started, but Draco cut her off.

"Don't worry. She will. Isn't that right, sweetheart?" Draco said putting an arm around Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione forced a smile. "Of course, dear," she said through gritted teeth.

Lavender sighed. "Aw, you two are too adorable," she glanced at her watch. "Well, I better be on my way. Busy, busy, busy, you know. Enjoy your afternoon, you lovebirds!"

She gave them a wave and was quickly on her way down the street.

Hermione waited until Lavender was completely out of sight before quickly removing Draco's arm from her shoulder. "What the hell were you thinking, telling her we were a couple?" She looked around nervously. "What if word gets out?"

Draco scoffed and put his hands behind his head as they continued their walk down the street. "Whose business is it if you have a little boyfriend, Granger? That's not exactly front page news don't worry about it."

"But she'll tell people that we're together! Rick and I haven't parted ways for that long! What will people think?"

"Merlin, Hermione. Relax."

Hermione stopped her ranting and looked at Draco. Him actually using her first name made her calm down more than anything.

"Regardless, of what anybody else thinks you're a grown woman. If you wanted to date twenty men the day after you left Rick, that's your business. Stop worrying about what everyone else thinks." He pulled Hermione to him and put his arm around her shoulders as started walking. This time she left it there.

Harry, Ginny, Ron and Luna sat outside a quiet little restaurant on the outskirts of Diagon Alley. It was a beautiful day in May, and Hermione was more than happy to enjoy lunch in the warm sun. Ginny was the first one to call out to them as they approached their table.

"Hermione, who's your friend?" she asked winking. Harry and Ginny of course already knew Draco's identity but Hermione had refrained from informing Ron for both confidential and personal reasons. What he didn't know wouldn't kill him.

"Ginny, this is Rylan. You've met before remember?" Hermione said narrowing her eyes. Draco waved a hand at the company. Hermione bent down to kiss Ginny on the cheek. Harry, Ron, and Luna stood up to hug her. She hugged them each and then said, " Rylan, this is Ron, Luna, and of course you've already met Harry and Ginny." Draco nodded to each person as Hermione introduced them.

Ginny smiled and started to get up to shake Draco's hand. "Nice to see you again, Rylan."

"Gin, please. Don't get up," Ron said anxiously, putting a hand on her shoulder and forcing her back into her seat. Ginny was now two days overdue and everybody was watching her like a ticking time bomb. "Let him come to you."

Ginny scoffed. "I'm pregnant not paralyzed, Ronald. I can get up when I want, thank you," she said staring at her brother with disgust. He raised his hands in surrender.

"Honey, he's right. Just take it easy, okay?" Harry said patting her shoulder from her other side. Ginny gave him a small smile and nodded. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, get over here, 'Mione. I haven't seen you in weeks," Ron said pulling Hermione into another warm hug. Ron released her and they all sat down. Hermione sat on Harry's left, leaving Draco to sit between her and Luna. As soon as everyone was seated, a waiter appeared out of thin air to take orders. Harry and Ginny both ordered the chicken alfredo, Ron the steak special, Luna a large salad, while Draco opted for pizza and Hermione a beef gyro. As they waited for their food the table began talking pleasantly about Quidditch, work, and the soon to arrive baby. Although Draco was the outsider of the group he occasionally added his two cents to the conversation, which caused Ron to look at him suspiciously. Ron gave Draco the quick one up and said. "So Hermione, who is this bloke then? Is this your new boyfriend or something?" Hermione coughed in her glass of water and Harry thumped her on her back.

"That's hardly any of your business, Ronald dear," Luna said speaking for Hermione. She turned to Hermione. "We've really missed seeing you, Hermione. Ronald and I were discussing meandering yapsnorks the other day and we thought of you. You and Rylan should come over for tea sometime before Ronald and I go back on the road," she finished, smiling broadly.

Hermione nodded wondering if she should be flattered or not. She decided that was a compliment in Luna's book and smiled. "Thanks, Luna. I'll definitely try to visit sometime soon," she said taking another sip from her water. Ron still stared at her suspiciously.

"You still haven't told us anything about your… Rylan," he finished. He addressed Draco. "How was it that you and Hermione met again?"

Draco glanced at Hermione, whose eyes were pleading with him not to say anything stupid. He gave her an evil grin and then turned to Ron. "Well, Hermione and I both got assigned to the same project from our separate departments. At first, it was strictly professional, but then after the our little jaunt in her office we've been inseparable ever since." Hermione's face went pale and Ron's a violent shade of red. Draco waved his hands laughing. "I'm only joking. Hermione and I have partnered on some things for the Ministry, but we're just very good friends. It's nothing like that." Ron looked skeptical but didn't ask anything else and Hermione still looked horrified as the waiter set down their plates in front of them. Draco smirked at her and Hermione bristled. She waited until he had his pizza in his mouth and then elbowed him roughly in the stomach. Draco dropped his slice on his plate and doubled over. He groaned but was able to hide it by bending over and brushing some pretend dirt from his shoes. He smiled sweetly at Hermione as he recovered, picking up a napkin to wipe his mouth. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him as if to say 'what now?' and continued with her meal smugly. Draco looked at her slightly surprised and took a sip of his pumpkin juice. Then leaning towards her he whispered into her ear. "You're on, Granger." He brushed her hair behind her back and Hermione froze. Draco proceeded to put his lips on her neck and then waited until he had caught everybody's attention. Then under the table he stepped on Hermione's foot at the same moment nipping playfully on Hermione's neck. She gasped and then bit her lip to stop herself from screaming. Her face turned bright red from trying to hide her pain, but the rest of the table saw Hermione blushing furiously while Draco kissed her neck. Ron's jaw dropped, Harry's eyes widened in shock, Ginny hooted, and Luna just sat there with her usual glazed expression.

"What's this then?" Ron raged.

Hermione immediately pushed Draco off of her and Draco straightened his collar. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself," Draco said, not looking very sorry at all.

"Look here, buddy. I don't know who the bloody hell you think you are. But Hermione is like a sister to me. You're not gonna sit here and maul my her in front of me! I don't wanna see any PDA between the two of you!" Ron said indignantly.

"Ronald dear, calm down. I don't remember you having a problem with PDA that night on the Quidditch pitch when we-"

"Luna! Shhh!" Ron cried putting a finger to his lips.

"Fine, but let me just say, if you ever want me to end up singing 'Weasley is Our King' like I did that night you will not complain about PDA."

"Ew!" Ginny yelled. She quickly covered her ears, and started loudly singing while Harry high-fived a very red Ron over her head.

Hermione shook her head looking at her friends around the table. Luna was trying to pry Ginny's hands from over her ears saying, "Honestly, Ginny. It's not as though _you've_ never had sex before." Harry and Ron had found themselves in a conversation about two of their favorite subjects: Quidditch and sex. And Draco had referred to his usual self, quiet and reserved. But Hermione noticed he didn't seem uncomfortable. He laughed good-naturedly at the other two men at the table, as he finished his food. He didn't seem as out of place as she originally thought he would. Anybody observing would see nothing but a group of very good friends enjoying each other's company. And that's how it felt to Hermione. So when they parted ways Hermione was glad for the chance to spend the afternoon with her friends.

* * *

Hermione plopped down on the sofa, when they finally reached home and stretched. The flat felt so much more inviting after taking a much-needed break from it. "That was so much more fun than I had originally thought."

Draco, smirked as he removed his disguise with a flick of his wand. His features returned to normal and he ran a hand to his now slightly longer hair to make sure it had returned to its normal length. He looked at himself in the mirror opposite the front door and when he seemed satisfied he said, "And you thought I would embarrass you."

"You, didn't?" Hermione asked incredulously sitting up. "I wanted to kill you today."

"Hmm… why is that?" Draco said doing a wonderful impersonation of somebody innocent.

"_Why is that__?_ What was that little stunt you pulled at the restaurant?" she said her face steadily turning red.

"I don't know what you're talking about…" Draco said calmly, walking away from her.

But Hermione wasn't going to let him get off easily. She jumped up from the couch and grabbed his arm.

"I'm talking to you, Draco. Don't walk away from me!"

He tried to pull his arm from her grasp but she wouldn't yield. "Damn, woman! Get a hold of yourself! Let go!"

"No!" she said looking him in the eye. "I want to know. You stepped on my foot. Fine. But you didn't have to hold on to me when we walked down the street. You didn't have to tell Lavender we were a couple. You didn't have to…" she gulped suddenly getting nervous. "You didn't have to kiss my neck. Why did you?"

Draco continued to stare past Hermione and she yanked his arm to get his attention. He looked at her straight in the eye and yelled, "You really wanna know, Hermione? I don't know. At first I just wanted to annoy you. But then it got outta hand. Damn, I'm sorry. Okay?"

His grey eyes bore into her brown ones and Hermione seemed to crumble under his gaze. She let go of his arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push…"

"Don't Hermione. Leave it alone." She nodded and Draco started to leave the room. "I will say one thing though," he said as he reached the hallway.

"What's that?" Hermione asked quietly.

"I enjoyed it," he said looking her in the eye. "And if you weren't so busy worrying about what everybody was going to say you would of realized that _you_ enjoyed it too."

* * *

So... what do you think? Let me know in a review and I'll send you internet kisses! LOL

* * *


	7. Crumbling Walls

**Disclaimer: **All things Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.

Author's note:

Hey, everyone (looks around appropriately ashamed). I haven't worked on either of my stories in months and I deeply apologize. I wasn't sure whether I was going to bother finishing this but I was still getting notifications from readers even months after my last update. So I finally decided to take some time out. I tried to make it a good one considering how long I've had my readers waiting. I have the next chapter outlined so hopefully the next chapter won't be too far behind. No guarantees though. lol. Thank you to everyone that has left a review. I really appreciate it.

Hope you enjoy.

Mikey

* * *

Draco's eyes had Hermione's legs locked in place. She was not able to move until he turned his gaze elsewhere. She shook her head, slightly, trying to clear the cloud of confusion Draco left over her head when he finally walked away.

"Enjoyed what, Draco?" she said quietly after him.

Draco paused, his hand on the door knob and let out an exasperated sigh. He didn't turn to look at her, but Hermione could tell from his voice that he was extremely irritated. "Oh, come on, Hermione," he said coldly. "You're the smartest witch of our age. Figure it out."

Hermione flinched when she heard Draco's door slam shut in the hallway. She stood perfectly still then, trying to figure out exactly what just happened. _What exactly had Draco just confessed to? And what was he accusing _her _of? _Draco said that he had "enjoyed" it. Enjoyed what? Teasing her, embarrassing her? Or was he referring to something else? She was more than a little miffed, particularly because she _was _the smartest witch of her age. This was not something that should have her puzzled.

But truthfully, she was not puzzled, just surprised. Draco had _feelings_ for her. Feelings of the extra friendly, more-than-platonic persuasion. Hermione felt her jaw drop as this new information set in. How did that happen?

She put her hand out behind her, fumbling around until her fingers came in contact with the sofa and slowly sank into the plush cushions. Hermione was not sure if she could take much more of this. Her sanity seemed to be balancing on the tip of a knife, one wrong move one way or the other and she would surely lose it. She sighed, and opened her eyes, unaware that she had even closed them in all her distress. Her body felt so tight, she couldn't even think. She looked down at her hands, which were balled up into fists in her lap, and took a deep breath. Hermione forced herself to relax, stretching her fingers and rolling her neck from side to side. She had been through a disconcerting amount of conflicting feelings since the time Draco arrived. Had it only been two weeks since he came to stay with her? It felt like much, much longer, months at the very least.

Draco had feelings for her. Fine. But how did she feel about him? She closed her eyes, reviewing the time with Draco in her mind, trying to discern the truth. The truth... Truth was a very touchy subject with Hermione, something she had always struggled with. Not because she was a liar. Quite the opposite, Hermione relied heavily on facts, being the logical, know-it-all that she was. She considered herself a fan of the truth. However, she was an even bigger fan of denial. Hermione and denial were the best of friends, as a matter of fact. Soul mates, even. They were almost inseparable. Hermione and denial had years and years to build on their relationship... It went without saying that that would make it exponentially harder when she finally let denial go.

She concentrated as she dug up the facts. Draco infuriated her. Really, he did. He was never what she expected. Purposely or not, he made her do things she had no intention of doing, feel things she had no intention of feeling. But yet, she was infatuated with him beyond the point of reason. But infatuations died didn't they? Infatuations are illogical, passing fancies based on lust and the thrill of the moment. Was her situation any different? Why was this so hard?

There had to be a reason behind her suffering. She was sure she knew what it was too. She was too stubborn, too hard-headed to come to terms with the situation facing her. She wanted to blame something else, anything else. But it all came down to one thing. She couldn't say it aloud. She couldn't even say it in her head. But she knew this was far more than infatuation.

Hermione wanted to cry but took a calming breath instead. She felt the last of her frustration ebb away, allowing her mind to think clearly. It took entirely too much energy to ignore what was so plainly obvious. So she questioned herself, positive that for once she would answer truthfully. Had she enjoyed herself with Draco? Yes. Did she like seeing him in the morning, sharing meals with him, talking to him, spending time with him? Yes. Yes to all of those questions. And what -now that she was being completely honest with herself- did all that mean? Did she have serious feelings for Draco? Yes. Was she in _love_ with him? Of that she wasn't sure, but she knew she was dangerously close. Hermione moaned at the realization, placing a hand over her face.

Crookshanks, either sensing his owner's distress or having just wanted some attention, came quietly into the room hopping lightly into Hermione's lap. She peered at him through her fingers and smiled beside her newfound grief. She pulled him into her arms and held him close, putting her face in his soft fur as he purred deeply. It was so easy to love Crookshanks, she thought. Effortless, even. Perfect. When people became involved things got complicated. People changed. Feelings got hurt. Draco, she decided, had the power to hurt her. The fact that she had feelings for him (she shuddered at the thought) made her vulnerable, and she would not willingly let herself be vulnerable. Not now. Not with him. Having made her mind up she rose from her seat, still holding her cat to her chest. Tomorrow would be difficult, she thought on the way to her room. She would have to stop playing this game with Draco. They had been dancing around romance since the day he came to stay. If their behavior continued in the same pattern Hermione would be in way too deep, she could not afford to make that mistake. She placed Crookshanks gingerly in his basket then plopped down into her bed. She was surprised at how clear and calm her mind was as she snuggled herself deep into the covers, feeling sleep not very far off.

_**Simultaneously...**_

Draco slammed the door behind him, temporarily losing his cool. He didn't blame himself, much. Hermione Granger could easily drive any sane person to madness. But he was a little disappointed at the way he went off and ran his mouth. It was not in his nature to make a fool of himself and he had definitely revealed more than he had intended to. He moodily pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor, then removed his wand from his back pocket before collapsing on his bed. He let out a deep sigh as he ran a hand through his already rumpled hair. That woman would be the death of him, he thought. She was so damn pushy. So quick to argue, and always, always running her mouth when others would keep theirs shut, regardless of the consequences and repercussions. She was repulsive in that way. She took herself and her work way too seriously. There was never a way to get a word in edgewise with her. If she was ever speechless it was a huge credit to whoever did it. He could go on and on about the qualms he had with her. But there was more to her, things that made her flaws not seem so bad a price to pay. There was an overwhelming amount of things that made him desperate to be around her. She was a grown witch with her priorities in order, but there were still traces of the girl he had known back in school. She was still there, the slightly awkward teenage girl. She danced around the kitchen when she cooked, wore cow pajamas to bed and was still ridiculously enamored with her hideous pet cat. He would have found it annoying back then but it was endearing now. And unlike the women he had surrounded himself with in the past, she did not care if she offended him with the truth. She never went out of her way to fluff his feathers in the way his past flings did, and she did not coddle or simper over him like his mother had. Then there was the side of her he was sure, until recently, that he would never meet. The side that was sincerely compassionate. The side that could completely ignore his past and see him as a person. Not as a monster like the Potter's fan club saw him as, and not as the Slytherin prince he was treated like since the day he was born. He felt like a _person_ around her. He felt right. It was enough to make his head spin. Draco had never expected to feel this way, especially about Hermione, his former enemy. The person he had focused much of his misguided hate at throughout his Hogwarts career.

He laughed at the thought. That was so long ago. So much had changed since. In a ridiculously short amount of time his feelings for Hermione had changed from contempt to mild aversion, tolerance to respect, and then that respect changed almost immediately into compassion. In just three short weeks... He knew it was early. And he knew it was probably way too soon. But he felt the words forming on his lips, knowing that if he said it aloud it would be real, and there would no turning back. There was a frown tugging at the ends of his mouth, but he whispered it to himself anyway.

"_I am in love with Hermione Granger._"

His voice was in complete disbelief but he knew the words he said were true. It was unexpected and completely out of the blue. He had absolutely no intentions of falling for her but it made so much sense now. She had saved him, in every sense of the word, and now he needed her. Simple as that. But he wasn't in the clear yet. Hermione, he knew deep down, cared for him. He wouldn't be self-conscious and try to convince himself that she felt any differently than he did. How could she, when every glance, every unguarded smile, every moment they shared together, good or bad, told him otherwise? No, she _had_ to care for him. But would she let herself be in _love _with him? Draco wasn't sure she would let herself be in love with _anyone_. She was silly in that way. Although she was one of the most selfless people he had ever met, he knew Hermione had the tendency to let self-preservation cloud her perception when it came down to her own feelings. If he was going to get through to her, it was going to have to be soon. If she had already made up her mind to do without him, he wasn't sure if there was much he could do to sway her.

A week later he realized that he may have already been too late.

Hermione, instead embracing the idea of being with Draco, totally rebuffed it. She had turned into someone he could hardly recognize. She paid him no more attention than one would a passing stranger. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he thought about the past week.

"_Hermione?" he had said carefully. She spared him a glance, and he figured that was as close to an acknowledgement as he was going to get. "Are you okay? You seem a little out of sorts..."_

"_I'm fine," was all she said as she turned back to the paperwork she was looking over. _

The day after they visited Diagon Alley she had sent an owl to her boss Acer requesting that he send her vigorous amounts of desk work to complete. Draco knew exactly why she did this, and couldn't help but feel a little annoyed. She was trying to occupy her time so thoroughly that she would have no time at available at all to spend on him. This was an effort in futility he thought, considering that first of all, he wasn't going anywhere, even if he had a desire to. And secondly, he wasn't going to give up that easily.

He couldn't follow her into her bedroom or the study. She made sure to lock those when she was inside, not that he would ever intrude on her private time in that way. But she couldn't spend all her time barred away in a room. She had to eat and take care of Crookshanks, at the very least. So when she was in the kitchen cooking, Draco sat patiently at the table. When she was watching television or reading a book in the living room he sat on the sofa- she always sat in the armchair so that he could not sit next to her on the sofa- and would stay there until she went to sleep, regardless of how boring the program was or how many books she read. One night she had even fallen asleep reading. He had gently lifted her from her seat and carried her to room, tucking her into bed. He wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he saw her peek at him as he closed her door. From that night on she went to bed early. She would look up from the television or her book every now and then, and up to the clock on the wall. It seemed like she was waiting until it was late enough for her to excuse herself for the evening. He also noticed that now when she sat with her nose in a book, her eyes never seemed to connect with the words and the pages never turned fast enough for her to actually be reading. She was trying to be nonchalant, and failing. Her obvious discomfort was a good sign. She was clearly denying herself, but Draco knew she would play this game as long as it would take to drive him away. His mouth pulled into a scowl.

He almost wished he had never confronted her that night they returned from Diagon Alley. Even if she never acted on her feelings for him, or even acknowledged them, he would at least still be able see the real Hermione. To feel her warmth, share a smile with her, a conversation, something, anything. But this new Hermione, the shell of her former self, pretended like she wanted absolutely nothing to do with Draco. She went out of her way to be as neutral as possible towards him. She was making his life miserable with her aloofness, he would have preferred her to yell and rant. But she was never harsh, or unpleasant, just extremely preoccupied, as if she was living in another world. She only spoke to him when absolutely necessary and said nothing that would require further explanation. He could see the hell she had created for herself, that it was eating her away: her careful actions, her practiced dialogue. He wondered vaguely how long she would be able to maintain the charade. There had to be a way to snap her out of it.

He had been thinking for quite some time now and had yet to decide what to do about Hermione when he felt a vibration in the air.

* * *

Hermione felt it too as she stepped out of the shower. It was nothing to be alarmed about. The Floo Network sent a gentle vibration through the flat when she was being called. Hermione quickly wrapped her robe around her as she went to answer the incoming Floo.

"Hermione?" a voice called.

She recognized the voice before her head appeared. Hermione immediately tensed. The voice sounded worried, anxious. Completely uncharacteristic of it's owner. Hermione settled down in front of the fireplace as Luna's face materialized in the dancing green flames. "Luna, is everything alright?"

Luna's eyes glanced behind her, "Ronald, please try to stay calm," she said to the unseen redhead.

All the while panic began to flood into Hermione. "Luna..." she said pleadingly. "What is wrong?"

"It's Ginny. There isn't enough time for the whole story, but she's in labor. She and Harry are at St. Mungo's. We were with them but we left to pick up Ginny's overnight things, and to let you and the Weasley's know what was..." she trailed off as her head turned in the flames. Hermione could just make out the string of profanities Ron was yelling in the background. Luna seemed to be trying to soothe him.

Hermione leaned closer to the fireplace. "Luna," she called. "Don't worry about Ron, he's fine. You know he has the tendency to overreact. Tell Ron I said to one, watch his mouth, and two, calm down. Everything will be fine. The only thing he needs to worry about is whether he needs to bring pink balloons, or blue," Hermione said. "I'll see you at the hospital as soon as I'm dressed."

Luna nodded, her usual aloof demeanor returning. Hermione had hardly waited for Luna to disappear before she rushed off to her room to put on some clothes. She kept it simple: jeans, jumper and white tennis shoes. She was wrestling her hair into a messy bun when a thought occurred to her. _Draco... _She had no intention of bringing him with her, he was supposed to be hiding out anyway. But what other choice did she have? She could always leave him here, but that wouldn't feel right. She screwed up her face in frustration, but her mind was made up. She went to bang on his door, but when she reached it she saw that it was already open. She peered in, and he was not there.

"Draco?" she called as she walked into the living room.

"Right here," he answered from the couch. He was fully dressed and ready to go. Hermione looked at him questioningly. "I was eavesdropping," he shrugged. He didn't look very repentant. Hermione scowled. Draco rolled his eyes at her in return as he got up."Are we leaving or what?"

"Yes, of course."

Draco nodded. "Should I... you know," he gestured to his face, "...change?"

Hermione contemplated for half a second before she answered. "Don't bother. St. Mungo's is fairly safe and I doubt anyone will be looking for you there anyway." She grabbed his arm. "I'll have hell to pay with Acer for this regardless." They disappeared with a faint pop.

They appeared in the reception room of St. Mungo's a second later. Hermione dropped Draco's arm instantly and jogged the short distance to the receptionist. Draco followed at his usual leisurely pace. The receptionist was very old. She had to be at least a hundred, Hermione thought. She was talking very seriously to a small dark skinned witch who was standing behind the desk next to her. Hermione was temporarily distracted as she stood in front of the desk, staring at the smaller, younger of the two. She was almost completely obscured from view by the desk, but Hermione could see her face. Under her even brown skin Hermione could see that her cheeks were unquestionably rosy, child-like. Her hair was cut short, pixie fashioned, neatly sticking up in every direction. It was very cute. In fact, everything about the witch was. Hermione then looked at her attire for the first time and noticed that the witch was wearing white Healer's robes. She was a Healer? This was a bit of a shock for Hermione. The witch's messy hair combined with the rest of her small features made her look like a little girl, but her eyes held the truth. Even though her dark brown eyes were large and bright Hermione could literally see the wisdom beneath them. However old she was, she was wise beyond her years.

She also seemed to have noticed Hermione's staring because she gave her a bright smile, her teeth perfectly white and even. "Hello, I'm Healer Brandywine. This is Mrs. Caldwell." She gestured to the receptionist. "Can we help you two?"

Hermione was shocked again. Hermione glanced at Draco's face from the periphery of her eyes; he too looked a little surprised, though he hid it far better than she did. Healer Brandywine's voice was rich, deep and smooth. She seemed to wrap each word in velvet as she spoke. Hermione couldn't help but pay attention to her every word.

"Yes," Hermione answered after a beat. "We're looking for our friend, Ginny Potter. She's in labor."

Before Mrs. Caldwell could reach for her list Brandywine answered. "Mrs. Potter happens to be my patient. You must be Ms. Granger. The Potters and Weasleys told me to look out for you," she said winking at the look of surprise on Hermione's face. "Ginny is doing wonderfully. Terribly spirited. But I'm afraid you won't be able to visit her as of right now. _I'm_ not even allowed in the room." She laughed to herself.

Hermione's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Why is that exactly?"

Brandywine stopped laughing but her smile stayed in place. "It appears that Mrs. Potter insists on delivering the baby naturally, without the use magical anesthetics. Mr. Potter is extremely opposed to the idea, so he politely asked me to step outside while they _discuss..._" she put emphasis on the word, " their options." She shook her head slightly. "Quite a spirited couple."

Hermione laughed now too. "Well, that certainly sounds like them. Are you sure we couldn't just take a peek to see how she's doing?" Hermione asked pleadingly. Draco fought to hide a smile at from the expression on her face. She looked like a child on Christmas Eve, begging to open just _one_ present before bed. It seemed to work on Brandywine. She looked at a clock on the wall and back to Hermione's face before answering.

"I do suppose it's time for another check-up. Follow me." She moved swiftly from behind the desk and off to the hallway on their left. The doors to the lift opened as they approached and she walked purposefully in, pressing the button for the seventh floor when they were all inside.

The moment the lift stopped and the doors open she was off again. Between Healer Brandywine's quick pace and Draco's long strides Hermione had to nearly run to keep up. Now that the initial shock of meeting Brandywine was starting to wear off she was getting anxious to see her friend. Hermione wasn't particularly close to anyone with children. The whole affair was foreign but extremely exciting to her. She knew her friend was ecstatic about being a mother and she couldn't help but share her enthusiasm.

They walked for a length of time. Hermione had counted fourteen rooms on the right side of the hall alone and was just about to ask how much further they had when Brandywine spoke.

"I'm sorry; it's quite a distance," she said, finally stopping in front of double doors. "We had to put the Potters in a more private location." She gestured to two wizards they passed a little way down the hall. Security. Brandywine gave them a nod they returned and then took her wand from within her robes. She tapped the right door six times in a complicated pattern. She gestured for them to walk before her as the doors opened into a waiting room.

It was a very peaceful place. Not at all nerve-wracking like the ones inside of a muggle hospital. Instead of white walls and floors, too bright lights, and uncomfortable metal chairs -all reminiscent of a prison- there was a completely different scene. It was as if they had stepped out of the hospital and on to a beach. The turquoise colored walls seemed to sparkle periodically, like the sun off clear tropical waters. The floor was covered wall to wall with tan carpet the same color and just as soft as sand. Light shone from orbs that danced across the ceiling, bumping gently in to each other ever so often. Hermione half expected lawn chairs but instead there were micro-suede arm chairs and sofas, all a brilliant shade of yellow, and all except for one love seat, occupied by a Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley was the first to reach her, of course. Her arms were open, ready to embrace her before before she was even completely out of her seat next to Mr. Weasley.

"Oh, Hermione!" she crooned, hugging her fiercely. "How are you?" She held her at arm's length, looking her up and down.

"I'm great, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, now that she was able to breathe. She was passed around. She was hugged and kissed within an inch of her life. All of the surviving Weasley sons and their spouses (except for Fleur, who had volunteered to watch her nieces and nephews along with her own children) had come. Luna was there of course, but couldn't technically be counted as a spouse yet. Only Charlie hadn't been able to make it. He was away in Egypt. After completing her circuit, Hermione somehow found herself under Molly's scrutiny again.

"You look skinny..." Mrs. Weasley continued, her eyes narrowing. "Doesn't she look skinny, Arthur?"

"She looks fine, dear," he said as he pulled Hermione into a one-armed hug.

Mrs. Weasley was about to start fussing again when someone finally noticed Hermione and the Healer had not walked in alone. It would be Ron, of course.

"_Malfoy_?" he said incredulously. Draco stiffened automatically but said nothing. He looked at Hermione cautiously, his face locked in a neutral expression.

The room was completely silent for a beat as Hermione contemplated an acceptable story. But before she could open her mouth to explain Mrs. Weasley spoke.

"Hello Draco," she said warmly. She stepped away from Hermione and went to stand in front of Draco. "How are you?" Draco was about to answer but the words caught in the back of his throat. Mrs. Weasley had carefully, motherly cupped his face in her hand. Draco froze and it seemed like everyone in the room was holding their breath. She surveyed him for a moment and then sighed. "I swear none of you young people can feed yourselves properly. Look at how thin he is," she said almost tragically, tutting. Everyone's jaw dropped, Draco's included. She placed a hand on each of his shoulders, holding his gaze. "You and Hermione will be over for dinner this week, and I won't hear a word against it," she said sternly, looking from Draco to Hermione. "Understood?"

They both nodded and Mrs. Weasley looked pleased. She sat down amiably, and picked up her knitting, which she had been working on before their arrival. Hermione stared at her and couldn't help but marvel at Mrs. Weasley's kindness. She had known Molly Weasley most of her life and yet she never failed to amaze. Draco was even more blown away. Mrs. Weasley's compassion was blind. He was not particularly familiar with her as a child but he had always known her to be something of a mother hen. Now he saw that her maternal instincts knew no limits. She extended her tenderness to even him, the son of a Death Eater. He could see now why everyone in the wizarding community was so fond of her.

Hermione and Draco settled down on the empty couch, as everyone drifted into easy conversation. Percy's wife Audrey and Angelina, George's wife, were both discussing their first pregnancies. Bill, Ron and Arthur were discussing this Quidditch season and Molly was patiently listening to one of Luna's latest conspiracies. Hermione had been twisting and untwisting her hands in her lap. She hadn't noticed that Draco had been watching her until she felt Draco's hand on top of hers. "Calm down," he said quietly. He removed his hand, but not before Hermione could register the electricity his touch had sent through her. She discreetly scooted away from him, trying to focus on other things. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed Brandywine was missing. Hermione vaguely remembered the small witch excusing herself some time after Mrs. Weasley's first hug. And then, as if on cue, she reappeared in a doorway on the far side of the room. Hermione hadn't noticed it before.

"Ms. Granger?" she called, in her smooth voice.

"Hermione," she corrected, smiling. Draco snorted quietly beside her. She ignored him.

Brandywine smiled. "Ginny would like to see you, Hermione." She left the door open as she stepped out.

"Oh!" Hermione jumped up as if electrocuted. She hurried across the room, her bun bouncing on top of her head. She didn't look behind her until she reached the door. Draco had not gotten up with her. She frowned at him. "Aren't you coming with me?"

He tried to keep his face passive as he asked, "Do you _want_ me to come with you?"

Hermione answered before she could think about what that meant. "Yes." She sounded a little too breathy, even to her own ears. She noticed Ron scowling from the corner of her eye so she continued. "I'm sure Ginny would like to see you too," she added, shrugging.

Draco looked at Hermione thoughtfully, his expression never changing, and she was afraid for a moment that he would refuse. She was trying to think of an appropriate facial expression if he did, but then Draco was crossing the room to stand next to her. She mentally sighed and gave him a small smile. He only nodded in return and gestured for her to walk ahead of him.

Somewhere in the back of Ginny's brain she had registered the fact that Harry was in the room but her eyes immediately zeroed in on Ginny and stayed there. She was beautiful, ridiculously so. Every inch of he skin seemed to be glowing, shining from her face. "Hey, you guys," she said giving them a big smile from her bed. She raised her right hand and wiggled her fingers in greeting.

"Hey love," Hermione said as she pulled Ginny into a tight, yet careful hug.

Draco hung back near the door. He caught Ginny's eye and nodded in way of greeting. She smiled back. Harry got up from one of the two seats in the room. He nodded to Draco and went to embrace Hermione. He held her close for a moment then kissed her on the forehead. "Glad you could make it, 'Mione," he said as they parted.

She smiled up at him. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Harry. You know that. So, _almost_ dad..." she turned to Ginny. "... and mum, how are we feeling? Are your contractions pretty close, Gin?"

"Not too close. Brandywine still says I have a little ways to go. I wish she was wrong," she sighed. "I want to have this baby right now."

Hermione chuckled. "Don't be so impatient, Gin. You've waited nine months, another couple of hours isn't going to kill you. You'll have your little bundle of joy soon enough," she said soothingly. "Just keep relaxing and listen to Brandywine. She knows what she's doing."

"Yeah, I like her."

"Me, too," Hermione said smiling. "Hey, Harry," she said. He had sat back down, Draco had taken the other seat nearest the door. "Do you think me and Gin could have a minute alone? You know, a little girl talk?"

Harry looked at Ginny and she smiled encouragingly. He shrugged and began to get up from his seat. Draco did too.

"Draco, stay," Hermione said before she could stop herself. Both men stared at her. Harry looking suspicious, Draco still keeping his face carefully blank. "I mean, I just think you'd be more comfortable here. I wouldn't want to leave you alone with all Ginny's brothers staring daggers at you," she finished lamely. She didn't know what had come over her today. Now that she was out of the safety and monotony of her own flat it was harder to control herself. There were expanding fissures in the walls she had put up between her and Draco. The walls she had fought to maintain would come crumbling down if she didn't take more precaution. But for whatever reason, the idea of Draco being away from her made her anxious. She let the urge to keep him close win out, opting to save her sanity for the time being. She would sort the rest out later.

Both men shrugged this time. Draco sat back down and Harry walked to Ginny's side. "I'll be right outside, okay?" He bent down to kiss her forehead. "Call me if you need absolutely _anything,_" he said seriously.

"Okay, okay," Ginny said quickly, shooing him away. He raised an eyebrow and she winked at him. He chuckled, waving a hand on his way out. "I'm glad you got rid of him. He was hovering. That man is so dramatic sometimes. It gets overbearing," Ginny said, but she was still smiling. Hermione smiled back as she sat down on the edge of Ginny's bed and looked around the room. It was the complete opposite of the waiting room. However, it was still undeniably relaxing, even more so than the waiting room, for obvious reasons she mused. It was a delivery room after all. She tried to place the scene around her. The walls perfectly matched the hue of an evergreen tree. The floor was paneled in a deep cherry wood. There was a potted ferns placed in each corner. A small tabletop fountain mimicked the sound of a stream from the counter opposite Ginny's bed. Everything about the room reminded her of walking through the forest. She smiled to herself, how very typical of Harry and Ginny. Even the mysterious breeze -mysterious because it had no source- smelled faintly of pine. Hermione unconsciously inhaled. It wasn't her favorite smell, but it was nice. She much rather the smell of the library, although she would never admit. People would laugh. But there was something about the stagnate air, the sweet musty fragrance from the old books and the familiar warmth that made her feel comfortable, at home. She sighed inwardly and then finally spoke.

"Gin?"

"Yeah, Hermione?" she answered pleasantly.

Hermione shook her head smiling. "You're so bright, and cheerful," she said quietly. "Aren't you the least bit... frightened?"

Ginny's smile faded. Her eyes tightened just a little bit as she thought. Hermione waited patiently, staring at a spot above Ginny's knee on the bed covers. Draco, looked uncomfortable, as if he wished he had left the room when Harry did. Ginny took a strand of her hair between her fingers when she replied. Her voice on the same octave as Hermione's.

"I'm terrified."

Hermione's head snapped up. "Oh, Ginny... Don't be," she placed a comforting hand on her knee. "I'm so sorry I asked."

"No. Don't be," she said serenely, patting Hermione's hand. "It's true. I am terrified... But I am _so_ much more excited about becoming a mother." She removed her hand from Hermione's and placed it lovingly over her belly. "I love this baby so much already. I didn't know I could feel so much for someone I've never met, but ever since I found out I was pregnant I just knew... I knew that I could not live in a world where my child did not exist. Hermione, I can't even begin to describe it to you properly. It's overwhelming... I need my baby like I need air to _breathe_." Her voice hitched, her last word barely coming out above a whisper.

Ginny looked up from her stomach to Hermione's face. Their brown eyes were similarly tear-filled. Their mouths showed the only differences in their expressions. Ginny had a smile on her lips, but the corners of Hermione's mouth were slightly pulled down. Hermione immediately altered her face to match Ginny's. They shared a half-sobbed laugh as they held hands.

Hermione was the first to compose herself. She freed one hand to wipe at her face. "Okay, all this estrogen in the air is messing with my head," she said jokingly. "Maybe I should step outside so your brothers can come in," she said, glancing back at Draco. "And besides, I think we scared Draco. Sorry." They both looked at him and laughed again. He rolled his eyes, but gave them a reluctant smirk.

"I'm sorry too, Draco," Ginny said, looking appropriately contrite as Hermione got up from the bed.

Draco got up from his seat in the corner too. "Don't apologize," he drawled. "As much as the two of you are terrifying together, you are also both very interesting. He reached out and squeezed her hand briefly.

Hermione kissed Ginny's cheek and said, "Want me to send one of your brothers in? Ron maybe?"

Ginny brightened. Hermione knew her so well. "He'll be right in." She said over her shoulder.

Draco was already holding the door open for her. Another small smile. Another nod.

* * *

Two and a half hours later Brandywine stepped into the the waiting room to deliver the good news.

Ginny gave birth (without magic) to an eight pound, two ounce baby boy. James Sirius Potter.

Harry brought his son out to meet the family while Ginny rested. Mrs. Weasley cried herself hoarse when she first held him. She alternated between placing gentle kisses on his fresh face and then firmer, lip-smacking kisses Harry's cheek. James seemed to be winning out though. Who could possibly resist? He was such an incredibly beautiful baby. His perfect little features very pronounced for a newborn. From the wisp of hair on his head it was clear that Harry's jet black had won out, but Ginny held her own in his face. His tiny nose favored Ginny's, even its immature state. His eyes were the only compromise that Hermione could see; they were a perfect hazel. He was clearly their child.

Mrs. Weasley finally passed the baby to Mr. Weasley and went to check on Ginny. After everyone had cooed over the baby, Harry took him back to his mother.

Even though the atmosphere had dramatically changed, from anticipation to excitement and then joy, Hermione looked around and could not help but feel a little sad. She was deliriously happy for Harry, Ginny and their family, but she felt somewhat out of place. She had always been somewhat of an outcast, regardless the situation. Though when she became friends with Harry and Ron she had never been so happy. An almost perfect camaraderie. But Harry and Ron had always leaned more heavily on each other than on her, and she had accepted that. They had been friends before she came along. She knew they had more in common, but that was to be expected. They were both boys after all. So throughout their friendship she had felt secure in their number two spot. Then Ginny joined their ranks, and they became a quartet. Harry and Ginny. Ron and herself. There was harmony, and she couldn't ask for anything more at the time. She smiled, shaking her head sadly at the memory. Even when she and Ron ended their relationship they still had each other when. She was still comfortable where she stood. But eventually Ron took notice of Luna and she felt her security ebb away. She was no longer priority. Not that she thought her two best friends cared about her any less; she would never accuse them of that. She knew that she would always hold a special part in their hearts. It was just that they each had someone that held an even bigger part. She felt a prickle at the corner of her eye and took a deep breath before her traitor tears could betray her. She struggled to keep a genuine smile on her face.

Draco had been leaning against the wall opposite Hermione, arms folded. Throughout all the confusion he had been watching her cheery facade fall apart. She sat in the chair furthest from the Weasley's. An outsider looking in may not have noticed, but he he knew immediately why. She was not tied to Ginny the way everyone else was. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the parents. All her brothers, Bill, George, Percy and their spouses in attendance. Harry. She and Harry had once been the outsiders to all of the Weasley's grief, but now she stood on the outside of their happiness, by herself. And by the looks of it the truth of the situation was killing her. But everyone was blissfully unaware. Arthur and Molly were talking happily to Brandywine near Ginny's door. Ron slept, snoring quietly with his head on Luna's lap. She stroked his hair absentmindedly staring off into space, as usual. No one paid Hermione the slightest attention. No one but Draco. Before he could stop himself, he was walking across the room to Hermione's side. Without a word he reached for her arm and pulled her from her seat and out the double doors. As soon as they were alone in the hallway he turned around, drawing her into his arms. And as much to his surprise as her own, she didn't fight him.

Hermione, eyes opened wide, slowly wrapped her arms around Draco's waist. She seemed not to have control over what she was doing. She felt her hold on him tighten and her eyes closed as she turned her face into his chest. She breathed deeply, inhaling the scent that came off of his skin. Her heart began to beat manically against her rib cage. His smell was drugging. Almost exactly like her favorite place, but somehow, _better_. She marveled at how peaceful she suddenly felt. How could she justify ignoring this, when she could not remember a time she had ever felt so right? Certainly not with Rick, and never this amazing with Ron. Being this way with Draco was an entirely different feeling. She had fought so hard to ignore him but she couldn't any longer. Mostly because he wouldn't budge an inch. He stayed by her side regardless of how she treated him, and here he was yet again, supporting her. Comforting her when she needed it the most. She held him tighter still. Forget control. Forget the walls. She couldn't even dredge up any of her usual fears. This was right. And it was all she wanted. She snuggled closer to him.

Draco was shocked at how Hermione was responding to him. He saw her resistance failing, but he didn't expect her to give in so completely. He was almost high with relief, he wasn't sure he could stand to spend another day wondering if he was only hurting himself. Wondering if he was a fool to fall for her. But he knew he was right not to give up. He'd gladly relive the last couple of weeks if he knew this would be the outcome. Without thinking he kissed the top of Hermione's head, leaving his face in her hair. He never knew how to be close to people, but with Hermione it was easy, natural even, to be with her this way. He marveled at her warmth, her softness, the way she fit in his arms. Perfectly. Her fingers grasped at the fabric of his shirt and he held her tighter still. There was no way he'd live without this now, without _her_. She was stuck with him.

* * *

Have I been forgiven for my absence? Yes? No? Leave comments, they make me write faster!


	8. Empowered and Helpless

**Disclaimer: **Everything JK's is just that.... JK's. lol

Author's Note:

So... as usual. I'm late. I apologize. I have excuses, but I'll spare you :) I had intended for the chapter to be longer than it is but I was anxious to get something out since I've had readers waiting. Be sure to read the author's note at the end, very important! I hope you like the chapter and, as usual, thank you so much for reading and for all the reviews :)

Mikey

* * *

Hermione was not sure how long they stood that way, wrapped in each others arms, but all too soon Draco was pulling away. She started to frown as Draco released her. He smiled at her encouragingly, by way of his usual self-satisfied grin, and took her hand in his. He entwined their fingers and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear with his free hand. Hermione shivered involuntarily at his light touch. "Are you ready to leave?" he asked quietly. She nodded, secretly happy to be leaving. Draco led her back into the waiting room so that they could say goodnight to everyone. Ron was the only one to visibly acknowledge the new aurora around the two. His upper lip curled when he saw that they were holding hands, but much to Hermione's relief he said nothing. If anybody else noticed the change between Hermione and Draco they kept it to themselves. After saying goodbye to the Weasleys and the new parents, they made their way back downstairs to the apparation point.

When the two appeared back in the flat's living room Hermione immediately became self-conscious. The room felt unfamiliar and foreign. Hermione stiffened looking around briefly for a distraction. Now that she was alone with Draco, and had stopped ignoring him, she was not sure how to conduct herself anymore. She let go of Draco's hand and walked quickly into the kitchen. "So, what do you want for dinner? I'm thinking spaghetti..." she called over her shoulder. She tried to sound casual and not at all nervous like she really was. Draco followed her, his steps confident and leisurely, as usual. He leaned against the counter and made a show of screwing up his face in concentration, as if this was a really difficult decision. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Whatever you like is fine. I'm not particularly picky." Instead of his usual smirk, he gave her a genuine, heartbreaking smile.

Hermione scoffed at his last statement but still turned around to hide the blush creeping up on her cheeks. _Damn that smile, _she thought. "Um, spaghetti it is, then," she said, her voice higher than usual. She chose to make spaghetti because it was the easiest thing that came to mind. She did not think she would be able to handle a more complicated dish with her head spinning the way it was. She moved around the kitchen rapidly getting her ingredients together, extra aware that Draco was still in the kitchen with her.

"Need any help?" Hermione heard him say behind her back.

She shrugged. "Sure." He summoned a pot from its hook on the wall and filled it with water to boil. The pot heated up far faster than any muggle stove would have and only a minute later he was adding the noodles to the bubbling water. He charmed the garlic to chop itself while Hermione took care of the meatballs. She opted to roll the meatballs the muggle way. She was desperate for any task that required her to use her hands, anything to keep her distracted. She was almost done; she had only to wait on the meatballs to cook fully through before finishing up with the sauce. She turned the fire down and removed the lid, dipping a wooden spoon into its contents. She put the spoon to her lips and closed her eyes momentarily as she tasted the sauce. She licked her lips. It was just right. She was about to take another taste when she saw from the corner of her eyes that Draco was watching her. There was a slight smile still playing on his lips as he leaned against the counter opposite her. She placed the spoon down and looked away embarrassed. He continued to stare and Hermione started drumming her fingers on the counter. When she could not stand to ignore him any longer she turned around. "May I ask what exactly has got you looking so smug?"

"Smug? I wouldn't say _smug_..." He pretended to survey his fingernails, another common habit of his. "More like _extremely_ at ease. And it's so not so much by a 'what' as a _who_," he said nonchalantly. He winked.

Hermione blushed furiously, facing the away from him again. She wasn't used to Draco flirting with her, but she definitely did not mind. She waited until she was absolutely positive her voice wouldn't break mid-sentence, before playing along. "Hmmm... so this 'who' must be pretty special, I imagine."

"One of a kind," he said, he said not missing a beat.

"I hope she's smart."

"She's smarter than me."

Hermione laughed. "That's not saying much." Draco threw her a dirty look. She gave him what she hoped was a winning smile in return. "Intelligence aside, I bet she's not too horrible to look at," she said moving to the sink to wash her hands.

"Yeah, not _too_ horrible," he agreed airily. Hermione scrunched her face, and threw a wet dish rag at him. Of course, he had been a pretty decent Seeker in school and caught it easily, even managing to avoid the water it sent splashing across the kitchen. He laughed at her, tossing the rag back into the sink. "She's gorgeous, actually. Completely and utterly beautiful," he said, finally sobering. He looked Hermione directly in her eyes, all traces of humor gone from his demeanor. His stare was fiery, the grey of his eyes seemed to smolder and swirl with smoke. Hermione felt her ears and face get hot terribly. "There is just _one_ thing about her that drives me crazy, though," he continued, never dropping his gaze.

"Oh?" Hermione said, trying to sound disinterested as she dried her hands on a towel. "What's that?" she asked turning towards the sink, to break his hold on her.

He moved to stand behind her, placing a hand on either side of her on the counter. Hermione was locked in by his arms. She fought the violent urge to shiver but remained still. "She has the tendency to be relentlessly _stubborn_ and ignore what's right in front of her pretty little face," he said quietly.

Hermione stiffened unable to turn around. Draco was so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body, and she was finding it very hard to breathe. She stared at the sink and spoke rather quickly. "Look Draco, I'm so sorry about how I've been treating you lately. It was really immature of me and I feel horrible for it. But you have to understand that I was so scared, I mean I'm not used to feeling this way and I wasn't sure how to act around you. The whole situation was just so new..." But she didn't get a chance to finish her babbling because Draco cut in.

"Turn around, woman," he said softly in her ear. She wanted to. She really did, but she found her feet wouldn't allow it. Draco gave her a few moments before he very gently put his hands on her waist and turned her so that she was facing him. "Like I said, _stubborn_. You think too much." He placed a hand under her chin and tilted it upwards, keeping his grey eyes trained on her lips as he leaned towards her. Hermione's heart rate skyrocketed and she closed her eyes in anticipation. She waited several seconds for the feel of his lips on hers but it didn't come. She opened her eyes in confusion to see him staring at her only an inch away, the cocky smirk back. Before she could roll her eyes he took her face in both his hands and kissed her.

He kissed her slowly, his lips moving gently, tenderly against hers. Hermione felt her limbs turn instantly to jelly and was grateful when Draco's hands released her face so that his arms could wrap around her waist. She locked her arms in a vice grip around his neck and reveled in the feeling of kissing Draco. There was absolutely no comparison to it. Every movement sent an electric current through Hermione and her brain became frazzled from the intensity. She deepened the kiss, gliding her tongue over Draco's bottom lip. Draco responded immediately and willingly opened his mouth to her. He kissed her deeply, his tongue moving in all the right ways to drive her crazy. Then too soon his mouth moved from hers, and his lips reattached themselves to her neck. Hermione could feel her blood boiling under her skin when Draco's hand moved under jumper to caress the bare skin of her back. She whimpered, and Draco chuckled as he moved his way up her jaw line and back to her mouth. He kissed her again, lazily this time, sucking her bottom lip as he pulled away. Hermione didn't know which sensation to focus on: the almost painful beating of her heart against her rib cage or the burning desire growing in her lower belly. She kept her arms around Draco's neck, her fingers laced so that she did not "accidentally" tear the clothes from his body.

"Wow," she said breathlessly when she had composed her self enough to speak.

"That's the consensus," he agreed, his voice a rich timbre. Hermione shivered in his arms.

"Well, if I ever think too much again, you know what to do."

"What's that?" he drawled.

"Kiss me like you did just now. I couldn't think _at all,_" she said, trying to hide embarrassment in her voice.

He smiled. "I will definitely keep that in mind," he said placing a kiss on her forehead. He took a step back from her. "Let's eat."

* * *

Hermione had feared that it would be awkward with Draco now that they were clearly more than just friends, but it was surprisingly easy. Easier than it had been since he had first came to stay. They were no longer enemies or strangers. And they weren't pretending to be completely oblivious, which was more Hermione's problem than Draco's. They talked over dinner as if they never had a rift, as if they were both their voluntarily, and not because one of them happened to be hiding out from people that wanted to kill them. After they finished eating they moved to the living room and fell asleep there, cuddling on the couch.

Acer stepped out of the fireplace at eight o'clock on the dot the next morning. He dusted some soot from his robes before looking up. When he did, his eyebrows flew straight to his hairline. The sight of Hermione and Draco snuggled up in the couch caught him off guard. Though they were both fully dressed, much to his relief, but it was still quite an intimate scene. Hermione had her head nestled into Draco's neck, one hand draped over his chest. Meanwhile, Draco had both arms around her, holding her to him protectively, his head rested on top of hers. Acer coughed loudly to announce his presence. Draco's eyelids slightly parted to see the source of the disturbance. He groaned in aggravation, throwing a hand over his eyes. Hermione, who had yet to open her eyes, stirred as she was jostled by Draco's movement. She snuggled closer to Draco mumbling, "Not yet, Draco. Five more minutes..."

"You've got five seconds."

Hermione recognized Acer's voice and fell off the couch. She had barely hit the floor she was back up again, moving too fast for Draco's still blurry eyes. "Um, Good morning Sir... I uh-" She shut her mouth as Acer raised a hand to silence her.

"You do know you're in a hell of a lot of trouble, don't you Granger?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Sir. But if you could just let me explain why we left..."

"I know exactly why you left, and although I understand, that doesn't mean I approve. I expected you to take your job, and Mr. Malfoy's _life, _far more seriously."

"I'm so sorry, Sir. I-"

"Spare me, Granger," he said sharply.

Draco, who had been sitting silently up until now, scowled. "Merlin, give her a break. _Nothing_ happened. And besides, she _took_ me with her. It's not like she left me 'defenseless' and alone in the flat. I was perfectly safe."

Acer awarded Draco a very bored stare. "Be that as it may, she was wrong to ignore her specific orders. But, in other news, we found three more Death Eaters as they tried to penetrate your manor's defenses. From our surveillance and investigation we believe the threat has passed. If someone was _really_ looking for you, they would have presented a far greater effort in my opinion. At the very least they would have tried to find Hermione, and from what we could tell, they didn't even bother to do that. We've looked into it far enough. We cannot afford to waste anymore time on it. Our department has far more complicated matters on its hands. So, with that being said, you're free to return to your home," Acer said to Draco. "I suggest you keep a low profile for a while, but you can go where ever you please. Hermione is no longer responsible for you." He turned back to Hermione. "You've got desk work for the four weeks, Granger. Understood?" Hermione nodded silently. "Good, then we're through here."

Acer made his way to the fireplace but stopped midway. He turned around and gestured to the two of them. "So, you two are...?" he trailed off, but it was clear what he was aiming at.

Hermione and Draco looked at each other briefly, their eyes asking each other the same question. Hermione turned away first and muttered, "We're still working out the details."

Acer nodded curtly. "Very well. See you bright and early tomorrow morning, Granger. Malfoy." He nodded to each of them and then disappeared in a flurry of green flames and ash.

Hermione stood perfectly still, thinking. Draco was free. He was no longer required to be here, with her watching over him at all times. He could come and go has he pleased. This should have been good news but Hermione was petrified at the thought. She had become so accustomed to Draco being there with her. Her flat wouldn't feel like home anymore without him. What would she do if he decided to go his own way? She wasn't sure she could home to a place Draco wasn't in. She fought to hide the terror rising in her, and turned to Draco.

"So..." Hermione said quietly, rocking back on her heels. "You're a free man. I guess you'll be happy to go home."

"Are you crazy? I'm devastated. I never want to take foot into that hell hole again," Draco said with obvious disgust.

"Oh, well I suppose you could find another place. It shouldn't be too hard..." Hermione said in an almost inaudible whisper.

Draco rolled his eyes at her obvious despair. "Will you stop being so silly, woman? Come sit down with me." He patted the cushion next to him and waited for her to sit down. He took her hand in his and lightly kissed her fingers. He let his lips linger there before saying quietly, "I want to be wherever you are."

Hermione brightened at this but she didn't let her guard down yet. She had to make sure they were on the same page. "I'm glad you do, but what's... What's going on between us?" she said nervously. Draco raised his eyebrows as if that was plainly obvious. "I mean, when somebody asks what should I say?"

Draco took a moment to ponder that. "Well, for all intents and purposes, I suppose you could say that we're together. Which we _are._" He said this positively. There was no sign of question or suggestion. Hermione smiled. "And I guess you should tell _whomever," _ he shrugged when as he said this, " that I'm your boyfriend. And I use the word "boyfriend" very, _very_ loosely. Because one: I'm hardly a _boy_," he said rolling his eyes. "And two: I plan on being much, _much _more than a _friend_ to you. If that's alright with you, of course." His eyes bore into hers while what he said sank in. Hermione felt her stomach do a flip at the very thought of any "extra friendly" activities with Draco. Hermione forced herself to keep breathing. Draco simmered down the fire in his eyes enough for her to regain focus. He played with her fingers. "Anyway," he said off-handedly, "whatever the social norm is, I suppose I could conform to that for the time being," he finished.

Hermione laughed then feigned horror. "You? Conform to social norms? Merlin forbid!"

Draco smirked, "Frightening idea, isn't it? Come here, woman." He opened his arms and Hermione went to him gladly. She settled down in his lap, breathing in his delicious scent that was so uniquely Draco, and now it solely belonged to her. She sighed.

"Boyfriend, huh?" Hermione said to herself.

"Only if it you want me," he chuckled softly. He said this in jest but was seriously awaiting her confirmation.

"Don't be silly, of course I want you. I'm just trying to adjust to the idea."

"What's there to adjust to? Just _be with me_," he breathed against her neck. She shivered. "Like right now. It's quite simple really."

And it was.

* * *

For the fourth time in the last thirty minutes, Hermione picked her head up from her desk. It was her second to last day of desk duty and she swore that it was the single longest day she had ever lived through, the day before winning a close second. There was a stack of paperwork waiting on her desk that reached the ceiling when she came in that morning. She had nearly cried when she saw it. Instead of running in the opposite direction she calmly walked toward her little cubicle, saying hello to her fellow Aurors as she passed. She caught Harry's eye and he gave her a small sympathetic smile. She nodded in return and tucked herself into what would be an extremely mundane work day. She was relieved that the work was not any harder than her usual mandatory desk duties. However by midday she wished it was more demanding. Once she had gotten into the flow of it, the work required very little thought at all, which left her mind to wander. Of course, she thought of Draco. It was ridiculous how much she missed him. She was so used to him always being there that now the separation was almost painful, especially now that they had been a couple for a little under a month now. She just had to see him soon. This was torture. She drummed her fingers on her desk, then she had a brilliant idea. _Of course! _She had a thirty minute lunch break, she could go home and see him. Thirty minutes was more than long enough for a very decent make out session. And if she managed her time correctly, she would even have enough time to actually eat something. She was getting up to tell Acer that she would be leaving for lunch break when an interoffice memo landed lightly on her desk. She frowned as she read it.

_Granger,_

_If you would be so kind as to order your lunch today I would greatly appreciate it. There is just so much to do, I shudder to think that any time should be wasted on traveling and things of the like when someone could bring your food to you. Thank you, as usual, for being so dedicated to your work. Have a pleasant afternoon._

_Acer_

Hermione growled as she crumpled up the memo. She threw it in the trash moodily, then sank back into her office chair and savagely pulled out her desk drawer, extracting several menus. She went through them all angrily, finally deciding on Chinese. She tied her order to an office owl, muttering creative ways to curse and punish Acer under her breath. Acer's impending doom, lunch, some gossip of a scandal involving an intern from the Department of Magical Games and Sports and some Quidditch player whose name she couldn't recall, and the diminishing pile of work on her desk kept her occupied for a good part of the rest of her work day. But inevitably Draco started to seep back into her thoughts. She wondered idly if this high she felt for him would ever wear off. She certainly hoped not. The nagging desire to see him, to be with him, touch him came flooding back and she stifled a groan. Her only comfort was knowing that Draco would be there when she got home. Waiting. For her. She smiled to herself and then looked at the clock on the wall. She sighed. Only fifteen minutes left. She wondered if anybody would notice if she disappeared early. She tugged on a stray lock of hair as she looked around the office, seriously entertaining the thought, when at the exact moment Acer stopped in front of her cubicle.

"How's that paperwork coming, Granger?"

"Very, well Sir. Just finishing up," she said smiling, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. She had been really considering ditching. One more second and she would have been gathering her things to leave.

"Good, good. Carry on then." He gave her a smile that would have appeared innocent enough, but Hermione could see the smugness behind it. She knew she deserved this but he didn't have to be so happy about it. _Jerk,_ she thought. Her head dropped again and she banged it on the desk softly a few times before sitting up again. She drew out the processing of the last file as long as she possibly could and was relieved to see that she was finally free to go. She grabbed her briefcase and straightened her desk in record time. It took all the strength and reserve she had to stop herself from running out of the building.

Hermione let out an audible sigh of relief when she materialized in her foyer. "Draco?" she called. She looked around, the object of her affection no where to be seen. She frowned. Crookshanks, who had been sleeping in the couch, seemed to appreciate her arrival at least. He opened an eye lazily when he heard her and hopped lightly to the ground, coming towards her. He made a figure eight through her legs, purring contentedly.

"Hello, darling," she crooned, picking him up. "Did you miss me?"

"_I _certainly did."

Hermione turned around to see Draco leaning against the wall, freshly out of the shower. His damp body was completely naked, minus a white towel wrapped snuggly over his hips. His skin was flushed from the heat of the shower, and all Hermione could do was stare. She let her eyes travel down his marvelous body. From his wet hair that sent drops of water cascading down his perfectly toned chest and stomach to the well defined pelvic bones just visible above his towel. He stood there, just smiling. Her own personal Adonis. Her breathing began to quicken and she was vaguely aware that Crookshanks was still in her arms. She put him down lightly as Draco crossed the room to her. His scent was so delicious, so appealing, she could smell it before he even reached her, almost taste it on her tongue. He smelled of soap, aftershave and something else indescribable, something uniquely Draco. She sighed when he was finally close enough for her to reach out to him.

"Oh really?" Hermione asked chasing a drop of water down his stomach with her finger. Draco shivered under her touch, catching her hand before she could go any lower. He narrowed his eyes at her as he laced his fingers through hers. Hermione looked up at him innocently, smiling.

"You have no idea," he said, his voice low. "Let me show you." His grey eyes seemed to cloud over and before she could say anything he had her pressed up against the wall. Hermione sighed as her eyes closed on their own accord. She would never adjust to this. The unbelievably intense feelings she experienced whenever he touched her. It was completely ridiculous the way she seemed to melt in his arms, how easily he took control of her, how easily she gave in. He slid her robes off of her shoulders, letting them fall softly to the floor. His hands moved from her waist to loosen a few buttons on her blouse, exposing her neck further. Draco put his face into her neck and inhaled deeply. "You smell amazing," he murmured against her skin. Hermione's eyes opened briefly to look at him but immediately fluttered closed again as Draco assaulted her throat with his mouth.

Hermione was not a stranger to Draco's touches. For the last month they had become pretty familiar with each other's anatomy through a series of uninterrupted snog sessions. And although they had mutually decided to take their physical relationship slowly, it didn't seem like that was the case now. There was something different about how tightly Draco held her against his still wet body, about how his mouth ravished her neck and shoulder. Normally she would have stopped him, told him to slow down before things got to serious, but she didn't. Her mind went blank and then was filled with nothing but sharp overwhelming lust. She gripped his shoulders, pulling him as closely as she could and he responded by hungrily taking her mouth into his. She twisted her fingers into his damp hair as she kissed him back with everything she had in her. All restraint was gone. Their kissing and caressing had always been meaningful and passionate, but now it was fierce and overwhelming. It was as if something had snapped in her brain. The dam holding their self control: the control of their actions, their emotions, their _lust, _had broken, setting it all free.

Somewhere in the saner part of her mind Hermione considered how long had it been since she'd actually _been_ with a man. She thought back and couldn't remember. Clearly far, far too long. So how could she stop herself, when suddenly her want for him was all she could think about? How could she ignore him when he seemed to want her just as badly? How many times had she ignored what she wanted, choosing to take the safer, more responsible route? Too many damn times. She could have talked herself out of it with a little more time, but then she felt Draco harden underneath his towel at that exact moment. Too late.

Her temperature rose and she let her hands roam down his muscled back. Boldly, she went lower cupping his rear and slowly pressed her pelvis against his. Draco moaned in her mouth from the contact and then pulled away from her. "Don't do that, love," he said in a throaty whisper.

She pouted. "Why not?"

"Because... " he said panting slightly. "I won't be able to stop myself if you keep that up."

Hermione put her hands on his chest and gently pushed him away. He opened his mouth to protest but Hermione put up a finger to silence him. Without another word she stepped out her shoes and then undid the rest of the buttons on her blouse, letting it drop to the floor. Draco stared at her wide-eyed. "What if I don't want you to stop?" she whispered quietly. She was surprised at the tone of her voice. She sounded confident and in control. She sounded _sexy_. She smiled at that knowledge but more so at the look on Draco's face. His usual grey eyes were almost black with lust. They stared at each other, both breathing heavily, for exactly six and a half seconds. Then he pounced.

Hermione found herself, once more, pressed up against the wall.

* * *

_Much, much later...._

Hermione smiled, feeling the warmth on her bare back. It was a little after dawn, and light was shining in from her bedroom window. She opened a sleepy eye, searching for Draco, but he wasn't there. She turned over in bed, about to call out for him, when she saw him. He stood in his boxers leaning against the window frame, back to the sun. His eyes were roaming up and down her naked body. She blushed when his eyes finally made it back up to hers. He gave her a small smile and she waited nervously for him to speak, but he just continued to stare. His face was smooth, but his grey eyes were extremely alert for such an early hour. After several moments of his silent staring, Hermione began to feel self-conscious, and fidgeted under his scrutiny. She reached for the sheets in attempts to cover her bare skin.

"Don't..." Draco finally said moving towards her. He slowly pulled the sheets from her hands as he got back in the bed with her. He tossed the sheets aside so that she lay before him, completely exposed. "Please don't hide from me," he said quietly. He took her face into his hands and kissed her softly on her forehead. "You're _so_ beautiful. I couldn't help but stare," he said, no longer looking at her body, but straight into her eyes. "Don't ever hide from me," he said quieter still.

Hermione felt her face and her heart burn simultaneously. She wasn't used to being treated like this. She wasn't sure she would ever adjust to the way Draco treated her. How lovingly they had moved together last night, perfectly. Or how adoringly he looked at her as he held her in his arms afterward. How he worshiped her with his eyes. It was so intense. It empowered her, and at the same time made her completely and utterly helpless. Hermione trembled under his gaze but hooked her arms around his neck. She pulled him down for a long, leisurely kiss. She took her time, touching him in every place, reveling in the sound of his soft moans, hoping to express exactly how she felt at this moment, because she was sure there were no words that would suffice.

An indeterminable amount of time later the two got out of bed. They shared one _very _long shower. Hermione was forever thankful once again that she was a witch because the water never got cold, not that it would have mattered to her in the slightest. The heat she felt from Draco was more than enough to keep her burning. After they resurfaced the bathroom they fed a sour-faced Crookshanks, who was extremely miffed at being ignored for so long. In the kitchen they put together a hasty breakfast, eating quickly and then immediately sending Crookshanks running for Draco's empty room as they proceeded to make love on the counter, against the refrigerator, and on top of the kitchen table.

* * *

Hermione yawned and ran a weak hand through her tousled hair as she laid on the couch, Draco asleep beside her. Her hair was a nightmare, her skin red, limbs jelly, and body warm all over. And yet she had never felt better in her life. She touched her face, and felt the Cheshire cat grin on her face. She would have liked to stay there, forever with Draco, but reality hit her as her idle gaze landed on the clock on the wall. It was two hours until five, and she had promised Mrs. Weasley that she and Draco would come over for dinner. Hermione stretched experimentally. She wasn't sure she could even walk in the state that she was in, but she managed to roll her self into an upright position. Draco's arms moved behind her then wrapped around her midsection. She laughed as he pulled her tight against his bare chest.

"Come on, it's time to get up," she said, patting his arm.

"Ugh. Why?" he mumbled into her shoulder blade.

His husky timbre sent a thrill through Hermione's spine but she restrained herself. "We have dinner with the Weasley's tonight. Did you forget?"

He huffed in response. Hermione smiled. "Thought so," she said as she rose from her seat. "Hurry up, or else," she said walking towards the bedroom.

Draco chuckled, "Or else what?"

Hermione didn't turn around but stopped walking. "Or else we won't have enough time to shower," she said, her voice low and sultry. She looked at him once over her shoulder and continued walking.

Draco practically flew from the couch.

* * *

**READ THIS : **

Okay. So I'm sure I disappointed a few people because I left out the juicy details of the sex scenes. BUT fear not! Because I'm giving you guys (the readers) the choice on whether or not you want all the little tidbits of their first time(s). lol. If enough people request it, I'll put it in a flashback in the next chapter. I think I know _just_ how to work it in :) SO.... **leave a review and let me know what you think!**


	9. Perfect

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything recognizable as JK Rowling's work.

Authors Note: I won't be apologizing for taking so long on these chapters anymore. It's pretty much useless, not because I don't care but because it's getting tired. We're all busy people, I get chapters out when I can, so please, please, please bear with me. With that being said, this is much shorter than I wanted it to be. But I've been agonizing over this chapter for months and I couldn't get it to go exactly how I wanted it, so I switched up a few things so that the chapter would end where it did because I was anxious to update. I did not add the flashbacks but that's because I decided to follow a suggestion from Elven at Heart and do a separate small story for that alone, so as to not break up the flow or offend any of my current readers. This chapter is pretty laid back, but things will definitely pick up in the next chapters. Thank you to those of you who you reviewed, and even to everyone who didn't just for stopping by. I hope you enjoy :)

Mikey

* * *

The Weasley's house had not changed since Hermione had first seen it all those years ago. When they apparated onto the front lawn, there was the same dilapidated wooden sign in the grass that read, THE BURROW. Rubber boots stood helter-skelter on the steps in front of the door. Hermione sidestepped a fat brown chicken and felt, as she always did here, at home. Outside of her humble flat, there was no other place she felt so at ease and relaxed. She didn't have to keep up appearances and hide things like she did at her parents, just as she didn't have to work twice as hard as everybody else in her profession to be respected by her magical-blooded peers. Hermione let out a contented sigh and raised her hand to knock but Molly was opening the door before her knuckles could ever reach it.

"Oh, Hermione! It's so good to see you, dear. How are you doing? Is everything at work going well?" She asked all this as she hugged Hermione within an inch of her life. Hermione hugged her back as she answered.

"I'm fine, Molly. Everything is great," she said beaming. Mrs. Weasley raised an eyebrow and followed Hermione's gaze to Draco. She smiled at him and then brought him in for a big hug as well.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're here, Draco. It's been a while since Hermione has looked so..." she scrutinized Hermione briefly. "... at ease," she finished. Hermione felt a deep brush creep up on her cheeks and averted her eyes. Draco glanced at Hermione and then gave Mrs. Weasley a seemingly innocent smile, but Hermione could see the smirk behind it. She poked him hard in the back so that Mrs. Weasley wouldn't see. Draco didn't so much as blink, to Hermione's great annoyance. He just kept smiling his perfect smile, and he rewarded Hermione with a quick but sharp pinch on the bum. Hermione grabbed Draco's arm tightly in attempts to channel the pain, but she felt her eyes begin to water as she held back a scream. This had all happened in a matter of seconds and Draco didn't miss a beat, addressing Mrs. Weasley.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much life has improved for me, as well," he said sincerely. Mrs. Weasley stared at him and put a hand to her heart, all emotions as usual, as she sighed with contentment.

"Oh, you are just too much, Draco Malfoy. Come in you two, come in." They crossed into the foyer and Molly proceeded to give Draco a tour of the house.

The layout of the house was exactly the same, no renovations and no additions. Each room was about the same as it had always been. The Weasleys had chosen to maintain their humble lifestyle, not needing anything extravagant, especially now that their children were grown, had moved out, and were all very successful. Despite all the money Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes brought in, Ron's professional Quidditch salary, Harry's longtime wealth (which had multiplied through various investments over the years), as well as the salaries of the other Weasley children, Arthur and Molly kept their lifestyle very simple. They lived exactly the same way as they had when they were poor. There were a few newer, nicer things, but that was all. The only thing that really showed that anything had changed at all were all the pictures around the house. Several weddings, baby pictures of all the grandchildren, and random photos they'd taken throughout they years, many of which featured Hermione. She hadn't said a word while Molly showed Draco around. She had not anticipated it, but was suddenly nervous, as if she had taken him to her own childhood home and not Ron's and Ginny's. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye as Molly went on merrily, wondering what he was thinking. His face was smooth, bearing no sign of a sneer or even the trademark smirk. That seemed to calm her down a bit. When they made their last stop in the kitchen Molly, like Hermione, smiled nervously.

"Well, this is our home. I know it's not much..." Molly said blushing.

Draco shook his head in disagreement. "It's a wonderful home."

Molly looked around skeptically. "You're just saying that..."

"Mrs. Weasley," he said slowly and clearly so she would take him seriously. "This is the single greatest home I have ever been in. Far better than the one I grew up in."

Mrs. Weasley's face turned about as red as her hair. "How you do go on..." she said, swatting his arm.

"No, really. Everything here is just so..."He let his eyes wander around the room. "So personal. Everything has a story. Everything... _means_ something to you. To me the entire concept of 'home' is a little foreign." His eyes tightened a little but he continued. "The house _I_ grew up in... It was just that, a house. I had never really visited anyone's house while I was a child, outside of relatives. But all their houses were pretty much set up the same as mine. This is just... I don't know..." He shook his head slightly, looking around. "A whole new experience for me... I really do like it, Mrs. Weasley."

Mrs. Weasley beamed at him through watery eyes, wearing her heart on her sleeve as usual. "Call me Molly, dear. And thank you." She patted his cheek twice, before turning her back to them, trying to hide so she could inconspicuously dry her eyes. "We're eating out back," she said motioning to the back door. She picked up a bowl of potato salad from the counter and went outside to the backyard, leaving the two alone in the kitchen.

Hermione looked at Draco, almost smugly."She is _so_ in love with you," she said smiling. She couldn't hide the pleased look on her face.

Draco smirked running a hand through his hair. "Isn't everyone?" he asked her in mock-seriousness.

"Oh, get over yourself, Draco." She rolled her eyes but stood up on her tip-toes to give him a chaste kiss on the mouth. Draco leaned in as he put an arm around her back to hold her close. Hermione forgot everything about dinner as Draco deepened the kiss. He had to hold her steady when he finally released her moments later.

"Oh," was all Hermione managed to say when she got her voice back. She was a little disorientated by the intensity of the kiss and started to walk in the opposite direction of the backyard. Draco only smirked as he placed his hands on her shoulders and steered her towards the correct the door.

Hermione walked out into the unconventional backyard and felt immediately at home. Her smile spread wide across her face as she looked upon her favorite people in the world.

Arthur was talking animatedly with Luna underneath one of the large misshapen trees. Hermione caught phrases like "ingenious technology" and "muggle innovation." She shook her head slightly at Mr. Weasley's never failing muggle fascination and Luna's usual dreamy stare. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny sat down on an old wooden bench across from them. Molly seemed to be fussing about Ginny's attire, an adorable floral sun dress cut just above the knee.

"... isn't it just a _little_ too short, sweetheart?"

"It's _fine_, Mum," Ginny said rolling her eyes. A gentle May breeze blew a strand of red hair into her face.

Molly looked like she wanted to argue but stopped herself. "If you say so, dear," Molly said pleasantly. She reached out a hand and tucked Ginny's stray hair behind her ear in a motherly gesture. Ginny tried to look annoyed but could only smile as she closed her eyes and rested her head on her mother's shoulder.

Harry and Ron were closest to the dinner table, which was actually just two wooden picnic tables pushed together with a long white linen cloth over it. Ron spun an old Quaffle in his hands as they talked about Quidditch. Harry was holding baby James in his arms and Hermione felt her heart warm over as she watched how natural he looked with his son. As he talked Harry repeatedly, but gently, removed James' tiny fists from his hair without breaking the conversation. James gave up on pulling out Harry's hair and was laughing hysterically at something over Harry's shoulder. Hermione followed his stare across the yard to see Ginny making silly faces at him from her seat next to Mrs. Weasley, to James' delight. Ron looked away from Harry to see what all James' excitement was about, and finally noticed Hermione and Draco.

"Thank Merlin. Now we can eat," he said moodily, as he took a seat directly in front of the roast beef.

Molly, who was also looking lovingly at the baby, addressed the pair. "I see you two finally decided to join us," she said smiling. "Let's eat then," she said getting up.

"Amen," Ron mumbled. His gaze never left the table, his stare alternating between the roast, the potatoes, and the steak and kidney pie.

Ginny had already risen to hug Hermione and put a friendly hand on Draco's arm. Luna sat down next to Ron and waved at them from the across the table.

Harry kissed Hermione on the cheek, "Hey 'Mione."He looked at Draco, and to Hermione's relief, looked friendly enough. He nodded and Draco nodded back. Hermione scoffed. _Men._ Hermione volunteered to hold James as they were all seated and the plates began to fill. Everyone was engaging in friendly conversation, ranging from James to Quidditch, to work and other miscellaneous things. Hermione was surprised at how pleasant it was, and how easily everybody had accepted Draco's presence. She was beginning to feel grateful that they had avoided an awkward scene, but she should have known better.

"Draco, dear," Mrs. Weasley said after a bite of pudding. "What have you been doing lately? I mean, now that you're... back in society, so to speak."

Hermione tried not to stare at him as he answered so she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. She was curious as to what he would say. Draco did not answer immediately, taking a moment to chew his food and then bring a napkin to his mouth. Mrs. Weasely waited.

"Well, actually," he said slowly, looking up from his food. "I've been looking for a job." He never looked nervous or uncomfortable but he would not meet Hermione's gaze either. He had not shared this little bit of information with Hermione yet. She was surprised. Hermione knew that Draco had enough money, like Harry, to never have to work a day in his life.

"I could live quite comfortably off of my inheritance," he continued when everyone's eyebrows fly up (except for baby James, of course, and Luna, who was surprised by nothing). "But I wouldn't feel right sitting around all day and being useless while Hermione is off saving the world's wizards and witches from themselves." He finally looked her way and gave her a small smile. "It's just that I've been out of the community so long thought that it is proving rather difficult to find work honestly." Hermione tried to keep her face straight, but she wanted so badly to take Draco in her arms. She knew it was not easy for him to be open, especially when it was about his own personal struggles. She settled by putting a hand on his knee underneath the table.

Mrs. Weasley did not seem to hide her distress as well Hermione did. "Oh, that is just dreadful!" she said. "Arthur, isn't there something you could do for him? You have so many friends in the Ministry, couldn't you find him something?"

Ron, who had not stopped eating since dinner began nearly choked on his baked potato. Arthur looked suddenly uneasy in his seat, and Hermione could see that he was more than a little wary of the idea. He still held a grudge against Lucius, making him a little less accepting of Draco than the rest of the family, barring Ron, of course. Arthur started to say something but Draco smiled politely at Mrs. Weasley and spoke before Arthur could. "That won't be necessary, Mr. Weasley. I'll figure something out. I can work my way up, from the very bottom, if necessary."

This did not seem to satisfy Mrs. Weasley, and she was about to put her foot down and argue, when Harry spoke up.

"I could help you find something," he said. Ron scowled but Mrs. Weasley clapped.

"Oh, could you, dear?"she asked breathlessly.

"Well, yeah," he said speaking directly to Mrs. Weasley. "I know a few departments that are always understaffed. I'm sure I could set him up with some interviews at the very least. That's if you're interested," he said addressing Draco.

Mrs. Weasley held her breath as Draco considered this. After a moment Draco replied, "I don't want any strings pulled, Potter. I want to do this on my own."

Harry looked at Draco, skeptically."Pull strings for you? I wouldn't dream of it!"He sound aghast to the idea, but Hermione knew he was only playing it up for Draco's sake.

"Well, then you're on."

Harry smiled and offered his hand over the table. Hermione was pleased to see Draco take it with only minimal hesitation. She mouthed a thank you to Harry, when Draco's attentions went back to his food. Harry gave her a wink across the table and she brightened, appreciating her friend that much more, glad that he at least was mature enough to get move on and accept Draco. Ron, however, still seemed heavily opposed to the idea.

After several helpings of everything, he seemed to finally have had enough to eat and put his elbows on the table as he leaned forward.

"So Malfoy..." The table became uncomfortably quiet, and Hermione groaned quietly. Draco put his hand on top of her's under the table. "You were Rylan all along?"

Hermione looked at Draco briefly, and Draco shrugged. "Well, yes..."

"And you were so ashamed of him that you had to disguise him in order to bring him to lunch?"Ron asked, looking sideways at Draco.

Hermione felt her eye twitch from agitation. Ron was lucky she was still holding James because she would not have been able to stop herself from jumping over the table and strangling him. Instead she pressed her face against the baby's warm cheek and took a deep breath. "I am not, nor was I ever, ashamed of Draco, Ron..." she said slowly. "At the time, Draco and I weren't even seeing each other. And given the circumstances the situation called for a certain level of secrecy... I don't know how much I can actually divulge to you about it. It was Ministry business after all..."

"Mhmm..." he said skeptically. "I noticed that Harry and Ginny don't seem too surprised about this information. You told them, didn't you? Why not, I don't know..." he shrugged. "let me in on your little charade?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Mate, Hermione and I work in the same department. Of course I was privy to certain information, that you aren't."

"And Ginny? She's an Auror now too, is she?" Ron asked heated.

Hermione awarded Ron with a bored stare. "Oh, grow up, Ron. This is exactly why I didn't tell you. Because regardless of the situation, I knew you would overreact."

"How did you expect me to react when one of my best friends is secretly dating our childhood enemy behind everyone's back!"

"Like I said, Draco and I weren't even _together_ at the time, not that it is any of your business, _Ronald_. And besides, it was supposed to be a secret."

"And you didn't think I could keep that a secret?" Ron asked. He had lowered his volume considerably but Hermione could still hear the hurt in his voice

Hermione let out a huge sigh."It's not like that, Ron," she said quietly. "It's just that I knew you were never too fond of Draco... And you hold a grudge worse than anybody else. I just assumed that it would be harder on you than on Harry or Ginny... Was I wrong?

Ron looked away disgruntled and Luna rubbed his arm soothingly. He sighed and then grumbled, "Well, no. You weren't wrong... But that doesn't make me like how you handled the situation any less... My two best friends _and_ my sister keeping secrets from me? You have to admit that's kinda cruel."

"I know, Ron and I'm so sorry," Hermione said reaching across the table to take his hand. "Are we okay?"

Ron chuckled quietly. "Yeah, we're okay 'Mione. Don't worry about it."

"I'm sorry too, mate." Harry said clapping Ron on the back. "I know how it feels to have things hidden from you... It does smart a bit."

Ron nodded, fully understanding. They all looked at Ginny, who had yet to speak. Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat and Ginny looked around defiantly. "Oh, come on. I am _not_ apologizing for anything. I didn't do anything wrong."

"_Ginevra_..."

"Merlin, Mum."She threw up her hands. "Ron, you have a tendency to be unreasonable. You were treated as such. End of story," she shrugged her shoulders.

Harry rolled his eyes and Mrs. Weasley tutted at her disapprovingly.

"I agree, personally."

Everyone looked in Luna's direction.

Her face remained unchanged as dug into her salad and continued. "Ronald can be very unreasonable at times. Once he argued with me about the existence of seething rapsnaks for an hour and a half, and he still to this day refuses to admit that there are hordes of them living within the walls of the Ministry," she said stabbing a radish. "I mean, honestly. The evidence is blinding..."

Everyone sat quietly staring at Luna. No one seemed brave enough to comment. The only sounds at the table was a soft cooing from James and the scraping of Luna's fork.

Hermione managed to look away to glance at Ron and noticed that he was smiling ever so slightly. "You're right, love," he said kissing her on her cheek. "I'm absolutely unreasonable." Luna smiled, putting a hand on top of Ron's.

Mrs. Weasley sighed, watching the two, "Oh, you two are so right for each other. Aren't they just perfect for each other, Arthur, dear?"

"Just perfect, dear," Arthur replied , patting her hand.

Ron took Luna's hand in his. "Do you think we're perfect for each other, Luna?" he asked quietly.

Luna looked a little surprised. "Of course, I do, Ronald. I love you," she said smiling softly at him. "You know that."

"I do," he said somewhat shyly. Hermione noticed Ron's ears going red and she began to question why he was acting so strangely, when it dawned on her. His unprovoked anger, the nervousness, his awkwardness now. Hermione smiled knowingly.

"Do you want us to give you a minute, Ron?"she said quietly. "We can-"

Ron held up his hand. "No it's alright. I kinda wanted to do this in front of everyone." He smiled, at Luna, never taking his eyes off of her. He got down on one knee in front besides her chair as Mrs. Weasley shrieked with excitement. Ron rolled his eyes at her and took a deep breath. "Luna, you know I'm terrible with words... But you also know how I feel about you. I love you, more than anything." He dug into his pocket and produced a ring. "Marry me?" he asked shrugging.

Luna stared at him for a full forty-five seconds before plucking the ring from Ron's fingers. She scrutinized it for a moment and then put it on. Ron laughed nervously. "So that's a yes?"

"That is most definitely a yes," she said seriously. She was more focused and attentive than Hermione had ever seen her, although she still looked every bit as whimsical as usual. "An ecstatic yes," she finished, as she leaned in to kiss him soundly on the mouth.

Everyone cheered, Mrs. Weasley loudest of all, tears running down her cheeks. '_Oh they're getting married, Arthur!_ ' When Ron and Luna surfaced Mrs. Weasley was the first to reach her youngest son. She kissed him all over his face and then hugged him fiercely, crying unabashedly into his chest. Ginny pulled Luna into tight hug and then prised her mother away to hug her closest brother. The congratulations continued well into the night until the women retired into the house.

Draco, the only one who had not moved from his seat, got up to follow Hermione, but Harry called after him.

"You really don't want to go in there. There'll be a lot of high-pitched giggling and constant squeals of excitement," he shook his head. "You won't be able to get the ringing out of your ears for days."

Arthur chimed in, opening and handing Draco a butterbeer. "With Molly in there, I'd think better of it. If you value your sanity, you'd stay out here in the yard."

The three young men looked at him surprised.

"You may or may not know this, but Molly is out of her mind with joy. Another grandchild to dote on, another one of her children getting married, and every time you and Hermione look at each other,"he glanced at Draco. "she nearly chokes with pleasure. My wife is very passionate, it's one of the things I love about her the most, but it gets exhausting. Extremely. You boys are still young but I can't express how important it is to have a peaceful place to retreat to. Mine is right there,"he said pointing to the shed. "And I'm going to my place of peace right now."Arthur took a sip of his butterbeer as he walked away.

With Arthur in his shed tinkering with his muggle appliances, Harry and Draco made themselves comfortable in mixed-matched lawn chairs, while Ron opted for leaning against a tree, somewhat defensively. It was quiet for a long while until Harry finally broke the silence.

"Draco, you know I have to ask," he said quietly. "But what exactly is going on with you and Hermione?"

Ron did not look up from the roots of the tree where his eyes were focused, but his body stiffened as he listened for an answer. Draco leaned back in his chair, relaxing a bit as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Well, we're in an exclusive relationship, if that's what you're asking." Draco said, nonplussed.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Thanks, I figured as much. I guess what I mean to say is, how do you feel about her? Honestly." Harry waited a moment for Draco to respond. Draco did not answer right away, keeping his eyes trained off into the distance. Harry sighed and continued. "By the looks of things, Hermione is very serious about you. Which puts me on my guard. With Rick it was different. There was always something missing. I didn't have to worry. But Hermione seems to be very serious about you. Just bringing you here, knowing our," he searched for the right word."_unpleasant_ history, makes me think she's more serious than we were aware of. The change is very subtle, but it's there," he said seriously. "So if you're what she wants, I won't argue... But if this is just some passing fling on you're end, I won't mind getting rid of you. It'll hurt her now, but it'd be much worse if goes to far... _So_... I need to know how you feel about her."

Draco shook his head smiling a little to himself. "Given the _very_ sensitive subject matter at hand, I'm going to ignore how ridiculous you sound because it's hardly any of your business. But if you _must_ know, Potter... I am in love with Hermione. So you really don't have anything to worry about."

Ron finally looked up to award Draco with a wary glance. "Wait a minute. Isn't it a little too soon for all that?"

"If we were discussing anybody else I would begrudgingly agree with you, Weaslebee, but this is Hermione we're talking about. It's not something I have control over. Hermione is a powerful witch," he smirked, but his grey eyes were soft. "I didn't have a chance." He looked up to meet Ron's glare, raising an eyebrow. "What does it matter to you?"

"It just bothers me," he huffed.

"Which part? The fact that it's Hermione, or that it's me?"

"Both."

Draco's laugh sounded dry and bored. "This is very sad, Weasley. I suggest that you get over Hermione seeing as you're now engaged, and more importantly because Hermione is already spoken for."

"Shut your trap, _Malfoy," _Ron said scathingly, saying Draco's last name as a derogative. "Hermione certainly is not 'spoken for' just because you two are dating. And just so you know, I am in love with Luna and Luna alone. That's why I proposed. I just don't like _you,_" he said narrowing his eyes. "Hermione is like a sister to me, and no one is good enough her. Especially not you."

Draco put his hands together in a steeple and studied Ron carefully before speaking. "This might tear a hole into your infallible logic, as much as I would _hate_ to do that," he added, rolling his eyes. "but _Ginny_ is your flesh and blood sister..." he nodded in Harry's direction. "Is Harry good enough for her?" he asked quietly.

Ron looked at Draco for a long time before he answered calmly. "No."

Harry didn't say anything, but his lips pulled down at the corners and his eyes tightened just a fraction at his best friend's words. Draco had to fight to keep the shock off of his face.

Ron put up his hands before either could comment. "Wait, let me finish. No one _is_ good enough for my little sister, but if she had to settle for anybody, who better than Harry? I trust him, he's my best mate. He's as close as to perfect as she'll get."

"Wow, thanks Ron," Harry said shaking his head at his life long friend.

"No problem," Ron shrugged. "But you, on the other hand," he continued, scowling at Draco. "I'm not so sure about you... I'll be fair, I don't know the post-Hogwarts Malfoy. Personally, I don't want to. But I haven't seen Hermione so excited about anyone in a while, and I trust her to take care of herself. So if she's happy with you... for the time being," he added, emphasizing the fact that he didn't think Draco would last. "Then I guess I'll try my best to accept you, as far as Hermione is concerned. But that, by no means, translates into I like you, or we're friends. I wouldn't say that much."

Draco considered Ron for an extended moment before shrugging. "Fair enough, Weasley. The feeling is entirely mutual."

* * *

As soon as they were back in their flat Hermione fastened her arms around Draco's waist and buried her face in chest.

"I'm so sorry, things got so awkward today," she mumbled into his shirt. "I had suspected Ron would be difficult but I hadn't expected Mr. Weasley to be unforgiving as well. Maybe I shouldn't have accepted Mrs. Weasley's invitation."

Draco rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arms around her and laughed. "All things considered it wasn't that bad. There isn't any bad blood between me and Mr. Weasely. Mrs. Weasley just put us both in an awkward position... And as far as Ron goes. I'd say there aren't any problems there either."

Hermione pulled away from him, though never releasing her hold, so that she could look up at his face. _Was he serious? No problems?_ "What do you mean there aren't any problems? You and Ron hate each other," she said suspiciously. "Don't tell me you've all of a sudden made up."

He shook his head. "No, not at all." He thought for a moment. "We've just agreed to disagree."

"About what?" Hermione asked, still suspicious.

"We both want you to be happy. I've seen how he behaves when you're concerned, so I can't argue that he does... And you must know that regardless of how things used to be between us in the past that I want you to be happy, too." He stared into her eyes seriously, seemingly waiting for Hermione's confirmation, so she nodded. He continued. "Well, we've also both agreed that for a reason neither of us can fathom you're happy being with me. But-"

Hermione frowned. "Why would you even say that? Of course I'm happy with you! I can't even stomach being away from you," she finished more quietly.

Draco smiled, smoothing the line between her eyebrows with his fingers, the lightest of touches. Hermione shivered.

"I know," he said quieter still. "But here is where we disagree. He thinks that I will hurt you. That I'll only be with you until I no longer need you, or until something better comes around. What Weasley doesn't realize is that I will always need you, and that for me, it's there's nothing better than this. Nothing is better than me and you." He touched the tip of her nose. Hermione sighed and turned her face into his palm. She was always surprised at how gentle Draco had turned out to be. It was hard for her to compare him to the boy he had been back in school. Until now, she had seen them as two completely different people, _that_ Draco and _her_ Draco. But she was wrong. There was only one Draco. _Her_ Draco. He was the same person he was then, just under a different light. Allowed to be himself with no restrictions, and feel the things he wanted to feel. Things he felt for her. How scary it was to think that it was merely chance that had allowed them to meet the second time around. How would she have survived that life, searching, but not knowing what she was searching for? Not knowing she was searching for Draco? She shuddered, pressing herself to him as closely as she could. No, she wouldn't believe that. She and Draco would have been, somehow. The world couldn't be that cruel, to only have given them one chance. Impossible, she thought.

"Are you alright?" he murmured into her hair.

She took a deep breath, and let it go slowly. "Yes, everything is perfect."

_Perfect_. What a frightening word...

* * *

A/N: hope you enjoyed!


	10. Pyxis Bertrald

**Disclaimer:** All things Harry Potter = JK; Plot = Mikey

Author's Note:

Hey there! I'm so excited about this chapter! I changed the plot and re-wrote it three times before I was happy with it! I had already posted it, but as i was rereading it I came upon all sorts of typos so I had to go back and fix it. I apologize to everybody who read the rougher version. I was just really anxious to get something posted. Anyways, the story takes a turn from here on out. More info and less relationship details for the time being so bear with me. All will be revealed in due time :)

Don't forget to leave a review! Happy reading!

Mikey

* * *

*******

Draco was sitting at the desk in their in-home office. There were books, manuscripts, and parchments with neatly written script spread across the desk's surface. Hermione leaned over the back of his chair and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Still working?"

Draco started at the sound of Hermione's voice. She had entered the office so quietly that he had not heard her approaching. Or perhaps, he was just so engrossed in his tasks that he did not notice.

"Yes, actually." He picked up a piece of parchment and looked at it briefly. He sighed. "It's this Hecates' Hex."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. "Hmm... I've never heard of it."

Draco heard the disappointment in her voice. Hermione hated to not know something. He held back a laugh. "It's very uncommon. I've never seen a curse like it before, and I've seen my fair share of curses," he muttered darkly. This one is particularly nasty. It must have been a bloody pain in the ass to write. It makes the victim feel as if their blood is boiling underneath their skin, but the effects are only in the mind. Their body is not harmed at all, so it isn't a curse that kills, physically at least. Sad thing is out of the seven reported cases, six of the victims ended up killing themselves just to escape the pain." He shook his head. "But something must counter its effects. There has to be something like this, if not similar to it. I'm tempted to get one of the senior specialists to assist me, but I'm not ready to give up yet. I just haven't looked hard enough." He let out a wide yawn.

"It's okay to let someone help you, you know. Leave it for tomorrow. Come to bed."

"I have to make some sort of progress with this tonight, Hermione."

"But you're tired."

"I'm fine," he said shortly.

Hermione pressed her cheek against his. "Rome wasn't built in a day, love. It's almost two o'clock. Please, let's get some sleep."

Draco tilted his head back and kissed her at the base of her neck. "Go ahead without me. I'll be there in a minute."

Hermione sighed but did not argue further. She left the office, closing the door quietly behind her. She was almost angry that Draco had a job now. Harry had provided him with several employment opportunities, as he had promised. Draco ended up taking a position with the Unpleasant Curse and Poison Center which researched curses and poisons and developed remedies and potions for the Department of Magical Disasters and Catastrophes and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as well as wizard hospitals like St. Mungo's. It was a job Draco was well suited for. He had always had a great aptitude for potions and had very good grades overall, despite his behavior at Hogwarts, something even Hermione would have begrudgingly admitted during their time there. But the work was challenging and meaningful, which was what Draco had been going for. Coupled with the fact that he could mostly work at home, and that the UCPC was not a Ministry based entity made it a perfect job for him. His superiors were already advancing him to more difficult tasks. She was glad that Draco now had a job that he enjoyed, but she couldn't pretend to be happy with the fact that she now had competition for his attention. She rolled her eyes at herself. She was being ridiculous of course. Their relationship had not suffered from his work. Draco was happy to finally feel useful, which in turn made Hermione. Perhaps if she was as excited about her work lately, she wouldn't feel the way she did.

She moved a reluctant Crookshanks from the bed to his wicker basket on the floor and settled under her covers peeved. She knew exactly when things began to go down hill for her career and it had everything to do with her relationship with Draco, although she did not blame him at all. It was the overenthusiastic media that she was angry with. After a month of keeping their relationship to themselves and close friends Draco and Hermione started going out in public together. Hermione had anticipated that it would cause some gossip, but she didn't find her life interesting enough to discover it printed all over the most popular wizards' magazines. The one that started it all was a particularly colorful article in _Witch's Weekly_. She leaned over Draco's side of the bed and removed a glossy piece of paper from the nightstand. She rolled her eyes and reread it.

_**The Latest Scandal: Who's Been Trading Teams**_

_After several years of living in solitude Draco Malfoy is back in the scene. He has been seen repeatedly in the last two months following his father's escape and recapture. It has been confirmed that despite his large fortune, Draco Malfoy, 25, has recently acquired a job at the Unpleasant Curse and Poison Control Center where he works as a potions specialist. So it appears that he's back to stay. But although Draco is one of England's most eligible wizards, it seems that we'll all have to wait in line. Yes, our blond heart throb has already found himself a girlfriend in no one other than the Golden Trio's own, Hermione Granger. _

_Considering their pasts it's hard to believe that these two are well matched. Hermione Granger, 25 is easily the most well known muggle-born witch of her time, and it is no secret that the Malfoys have always been less than receptive to the muggle-born population. However, it seems that the two have overcome their differences. Malfoy and Granger have been seen enjoying each other's company several times in the past month alone._

"_I saw them together quite a while ago at St. Mungo's the night the Potter's son was born. My son had magicked his way into the potions cabinet, terrible mess. He's fine now though. But yes, I saw them there. I assume they came to see Potter when she was in labor. At first I wasn't sure I had seen correctly, they were in and out of the lobby so quickly that I couldn't be sure that it was Malfoy with Granger. But then a friend of mine saw them together at a restaurant near her home in muggle London and that pretty much confirmed it for me." Wesleyan Irwin, 37._

"_I had just seen Hermione with another man," said Lavender Brown, 25. "So you could imagine I was very surprised to see her cozied up outside Florean Fortescue's with someone new, let alone Draco Malfoy of all people. I'd never known Hermione to trade men so quickly, but she really hit the jackpot this time! If you're reading this Hermione, honey, owl me!"_

"_Malfoy was three years ahead of me at Hogwarts but I saw the girls he went around with. Granger is not his type. I don't know what it is about her but she has this uncanny ability of attracting men outside her league. Harry Potter, Victor Krum and now Draco? I think someone should investigate her, she's clearly using some form of magical manipulation." Magdalene Winthrop, 22._

_Whether Granger is using magic or just irresistible charm, one thing's for certain, she is one lucky witch! From all of us at _Witch's Weekly_ good luck you two!_

Hermione pursed her lips. Draco had cut the article out for keeping, to Hermione's great annoyance. The title alone greatly offended her, and it wasn't as if they hadn't portrayed their relationship in too flattering a way, so Hermione could not imagine why Draco would want to revisit it. When she asked him about he said that he liked the photograph. She had received a headache from how hard she rolled her eyes at him. But she could see where he was coming from. She secretly liked it too. She and Draco were sitting close together one evening outside at a seemingly secluded restaurant on the outskirts of Diagon Alley. They were celebrating Draco's twenty-fifth birthday and she remembered vividly why the picture looked as intimate as it did. That was the first time Draco told her he was in love with her. She had suspected that he was for a long time by then. If he felt anything as close to how she felt for him, he had to be in love with her. She had wanted to tell him exactly how much she loved him too for weeks, but was much too nervous to, in case he didn't feel the same. She realized then how silly she had been. Of course, he loved her. It showed with his every glance, every smile, every touch. But she had been elated to hear him say it that day. Hermione remembered telling Draco that same moment that she was in love with him too. There wasn't a hint of doubt or indecision in her voice. The truth of her words had warmed her from the inside out as soon as she had spoken them. Draco's smile mirrored her own. Crazy happy, and desperately in love. This is when the picture must have been taken. Hermione watched herself in the picture, not bothering to hinder the smile forming on her lips. The Hermione and Draco in the photo were holding hands over the table, smiling brilliantly. Photo Draco put his hand on the back of photo Hermione's neck and brought her close for a kiss that was slow and drugging. Hermione swore that she could still taste that kiss. It wasn't long after that kiss that they went home to finish what was started. Hermione remembered _that_ vividly as well. But there was a fire burning in her belly for a different reason. That kiss was supposed to be just for her and now it was immortalized in this photo, for the world to share. She felt her upper lip curl in anger. She thrust the page back into the nightstand.

She could get over the article. It was the effect it had on her work that really had her upset. After a week of enduring good-natured jabs from her fellow Aurors Acer had called her into his office. He had informed her that due to her recent "popularity" it would be best if she didn't work on any big cases at the time. With her name buzzing in everybody's ear it could compromise any missions if she was to take part in their execution. She had tried to argue but Acer wouldn't have any of it. His usual smug and sarcastic demeanor had vanished, leaving in its wake only a cold sternness. Hermione couldn't imagine why he was so upset with her, it wasn't her fault the press was after her, and it wasn't like she was the only one that ever got caught in the limelight. Harry had been in the papers for a good month straight after James was born and for several instances before that, but as far as she could tell no one had ever told him sit the next few assignments out. She scowled at the ceiling but was too tired to dwell on it any longer. She snuggled into her pillow and made herself comfortable under her covers, soon falling asleep.

*******

_Somewhere a grandfather clock struck midnight. The time went unnoticed by the pale man sitting quietly in his armchair. He leaned back deep into the cushions, his hands making a steeple under his chin. He was positioned directly in front of the fire as he stared, unseeing, into the flickering light of the dying flames. _

_A woman leaned against the wall behind him, wrapped snugly in a house robe. Her skin was just as pale as his, except for the patches of rose in her cheeks. Her hair, unlike his was dark, black as pitch. Her eyes were the brightest cerulean blue, even in the dim firelight. She watched the man silently for a while before heaving a great sigh and speaking. Her voice was as warm and sweet as honey. "I hate to see you like this. Tell me what has you so troubled." _

"_I can't do this anymore," the man said quietly. "It sickens me to have a hand in this. I feel wretched. I can't even begin to comprehend how you can stand to look at me," he said in disgust. He turned his face away from her._

"_Shhh, don't berate yourself like this," she said coming around the chair to peer into his face. She knelt down in front of him and reached up, placing a hand on his cheek. "I know how much you have sacrificed so that we could be together. How could I fault you for doing anything that would allow you to stay with me? Anything that would keep you alive?"_

_His troubled expression did not change, but he leaned his face into her hand and kissed her palm. "But at what price? How can you forgive me for taking part in this? For claiming the lives of innocent people? Lives of people like you?"_

_Her face fell slightly. "But you said you have not killed anyone in months." _

"_I may not have murdered anyone _physically_ for quite a some time, but I have stood aside and let it happen time and time again." His eyes closed. "They are starting to get suspicious. My efforts as of late have been less than enthusiastic. I cannot avoid them for much longer. They will take action if we are discovered."_

"_Then why don't we just leave, love? We can run away! They will never know where to find us!"_

"_How I wish it was that easy."_

"_If you wish it then make it happen," she said desperately._

_He gave her a pained look, but did not speak. He got down on his knees and took her in his arms, holding her tightly. They knelt that way in front of the fire for quite some time. Then there was a quiet knocking at the door._

_The man looked up in horror. "Have you told anyone that we're here?" he asked in a tense whisper._

"_No, of course not!" she answered, just as horrified. "You know I would never! But who would know where to find us?"_

_He put a finger to her lips to quiet her. He leaned over her and slowly retrieved his wand from its perch on the side table._

_There was another knock at the door, just as quiet and polite as the first._

_He gave the woman a chaste kiss on the lips before whispering to her fiercely, "Go to her! Hurry!" The woman's eyes widened and she scrambled to her feet. She took off flying in the opposite direction. She did not look back. The man remained where he was until he was sure he heard the nursery door open and close behind her._

_He got up and made his way cautiously to the front door. He was barely two yards away when it opened on its own accord. The man was frozen from what he saw. Three hooded men walked in silently, as calmly as if they were invited. The one in front removed his hood and looked around the room. He smiled and then spoke cordially. "What a humble home you have fashioned for yourself."_

_The man was frozen in shock. He opened and closed his mouth several times before he could manage to speak. "Why are you here?" _

"_You know _exactly_ why I am here," the intruder answered, all humor gone from his face. _

"_Who told you about us? Higgins?"_

_The intruder raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you were expecting his betrayal?"_

"_No, not at all. But I never dreamed he could be capable of this. And he claimed to love―" _

"_Enough. You brought this upon yourself, old friend," he said advancing._

"_Well I hope you killed him as well, because he loves her too."_

"_Higgins has not defied us as you have. But alas, no one is here to kill _you_. Although that is what he had hoped, of course. But you will not be the one to fall tonight."_

"_No," the man said, horrified. "Please, reconsider..." he begged, backing up further into the room._

"_Don't move," one of the other cloaked figures said sinisterly, pointing his wand at the man's chest. _

"_You have left us with no choice," the leader said. "The mudblood must die."_

_His grip tightened on his wand so greatly he was sure it would soon snap. He tried to think of anything that could save his family, and came up with nothing. He sank to his knees, pleading. "Please. Please no. Take me instead."_

"_There is no other way. You will live alone with this pain. You will suffer for what you have done. For that, I truly apologize," he said quietly. The man looked into the intruder's face and saw that he did look sincerely sorry. But the knowledge would not ease his pain._

"_Dolus..." the man whispered. Don't do this."_

_But it was too late..._

_He heard a muffled gasp from behind him. He turned around to see a flash of green light so bright that it lit up the entire hallway behind them. There was a soft thud as something heavy hit the wood floor, and then there was silence. The man looked on in silent horror as a fourth hooded figure stepped out of the nursery, leaving the door ajar. He came to Dolus' side and then nodded once. _

"_I am sorry," Dolus said again. "Keep your life and do with it what you will. Your blood will not be on my hands. Not tonight. But if you show your face again I assure you it will not end in your favor. Farewell, old friend." He spared the frozen man one last look before he swiftly left the house, his followers on his heel._

_The man did not turn to watch them leave. He struggled to breathe, one hand reaching out towards his wife. His child. He couldn't bear to think it, but he knew. And every cell in his body confirmed it as he felt the pain starting to rip through him. It was like a wildfire, scorching every individual fiber of his being. He tried to breathe, but he could hardly manage it. Each breath burned and stung him from the inside. It was as if the air had turned into hot sand in his lungs. He doubled over, as his body convulsed, rejecting the horrible pain that swelled inside him. Mind numb, he managed to stand up and made his way hesitantly through the open nursery door, terrified of what he would find when he reached. His chest tightened and he braced himself. _

_She was laying on her side, back facing him, when he entered the room. For this he was truly grateful. He could not bare to look into his love's blank, unseeing eyes. He wouldn't be able to take it. His mind would explode. He collapsed onto his knees and sucked in a sharp, unsatisfying breath. He stared at the floor, watching as his silent tears made a puddle on the floor. He had not noticed the wetness falling from his eyes. He didn't care. He let his hands fall to his side and his wand fell out of his open palm, rolling to stop in front of the baby's bassinet. He hadn't realized he was still holding onto it. For an immeasurable moment he stared after it. He narrowed his eyes, mind made up. With what strength he had left he crawled after it, his eyes set firmly on his goal. He could not bare to look up and see his child, his baby girl laying dead in her crib. His chest hitched as he reached out and took the wand into his waiting hand. He leaned his head against the wall, paralyzed by his pain. He allowed only one long, agonized moan to escape his lips and then he was silent. After what felt like a century he lifted his arm, pointing the wand into his chest. His arm felt heavy and limp as he held it there, but his grip was sure. He took one last breath to steady himself, before he muttered the words that would put an end to his suffering, and consequently his life. His lips parted, but before he could even make a sound he paused, suddenly alert. The smallest, tiniest sigh had caught his attention. _

_His first thought was that he had imagined it. He _must_ have. There was no way, he didn't _dare_ to hope that he had. But his eyes were moving up to peer into the crib to confirm it anyway. It was empty. His eyes widened with new shock. Where was the baby? He surveyed the room but found saw nothing. He heard it again. His eyes darted back to where his wife lay. He hadn't noticed it before, but there was something strange about her posture. Her body was haunched over, arms curled protectively around her middle. He stumbled over to her, his body ragged with both despair and hope. He reached out slowly and put his hand on his wife's shoulder. His brain reeled and stomach lurched from touching her lifeless body, but he did not remove his hand. He took a deep breath and then carefully, ever so carefully, he turned her body over to find himself gazing into the open eyes of his baby girl. She blinked twice, as if she was recognizing his face. Then she put one of her tiny fist into her toothless mouth and laughed. The sweetest sound he had ever heard. He laughed too. A hysterical, crazed with relief, laugh. He had been so sure that she was dead. She hadn't made a sound when her mother fell. She had stayed silent, as if she knew her life depended on it. The hooded man hadn't bother to see if the curse had hit her and he hadn't had his faculties about him to make sure. But here she was, alive, smiling at him. He scooped his daughter gently into his arms. He examined her body with fervor, looking for some sort of injury or disfigurement, but she was fine. The only thing he found was a large bruise blossoming under the skin of her right arm where she had hit the floor. But that was easily fixed. He held her in one arm as he waved his wand over her with his other hand. The mark disappeared. There was no remaining evidence of foul play. He placed a thousand kisses all over her face as she cooed, and then brought her to his chest, holding her there snuggly. He marveled at her warmth, the softness of her baby skin, the feeling of her tiny chest rising and falling against his. He hadn't been aware of it, but his heart had stopped the moment he saw that green light. He had died right then. It was a zombie that had entered the room to mourn his loss. A walking corpse. But he could feel his heart beating again in his chest, now that he could feel hers, vital and strong. Perfect. _

"_Perfect," he mumbled into the baby's skin. "Perfect."_

Hermione awoke with a start. She sat straight up in bed, looking around. The fluorescent alarm clock on her bedside table told her that it was a little after four. She hadn't noticed Draco come in. He turned over in his sleep as she watched him, his face turned away from her. She sighed and raised a shaky hand to her cheek to feel the wetness. She rubbed her eyes, drying the tears that had accumulated there. She inhaled deeply to steady herself. This was the third night she had this dream this week alone, and each time she awoke in tears. She did not know the people that constantly starred in her dreams, but her heart broke for them each time she was forced to experience it. Every night the dream struck with more clarity, more pain. It always ended with the same heinous word.

_Perfect._

It had been months but she still could not get the thought out of her head. Perfect. _Everything is perfect_, she told him. She wished she had never spoken the words. But everything _was_ perfect. Besides her reoccurring, heartbreaking, dreams, her life had never been better. She tried to shake the feeling of dread that was washing over her, but it wouldn't budge. She scowled in the darkness as she laid her head back down on the pillow. She reached out to Draco, but stopped an inch away, not wanting to wake him. He had probably just fallen asleep anyway. So instead, she scooted as closely to him as she could without actually touching him. She could feel the warmth that radiated from his body and her muscles relaxed just a bit from the closeness. She blew air out from between her teeth, she would not be able to fall back to sleep. She snuggled deeper into the covers, preparing herself for another sleepless night, when Draco turned over. She itched to touch him but settled for watching his chest rise and fall steadily. She studied the movement of his chest for a long moment before peering up into his face. They were nose to nose, his grey eyes open and alert. She gasped. She hadn't realized he was awake and was a little shocked to find him watching her. He chuckled softly at the surprised look on her face then pulled her into his body, closing the infinitesimal gap between them. He pressed his lips to hers gently and her eyes fluttered to a close. Her whole body relaxed from his touch. "Go back to sleep," he whispered huskily. She did.

*******

Hermione's work day had started off like any other. She was at her desk sitting at her desk going over a pretty standard case. A hold up at a small shop just outside Diagon Alley. She pored over the testimonies of the victims and witnesses, and thumbed through the files of the suspects. She had interrogated all but two of the six, and she was already pretty sure she knew exactly which two wizards boosted the register at poor old Mrs. Wilkins' secondhand cauldron shop. She was busy planning a visit to the last two suspects, when an office memo landed lightly on her desk. She pushed her work aside, and unfolded it, laying it flat as she read.

_If you're not too busy I could use your help with a situation. Meet me in the Atrium, near the security desk. We'll talk more about it there._

_Harry_

Hermione looked back at her case skeptically. Mrs. Wilkins could wait. She tucked her wand into the holster on her belt and made her way through the labyrinth of cubicles that was the Aurors' office. She walked briskly down the hall and was lucky enough to catch the lift on its way down. She squeezed in as the grates closed behind her, apologizing to the witch she crushed upon entering. She ignored the sexless voice, as she usually did, that announced the floors as they stopped. She sighed and cursed herself under her breath for choosing to work in the department located on the second highest level of the building. The journey six floors down to the Atrium seemed to take forever. When the lift finally reached level eight she was jostled from the front to the back of the lift as the other occupants pushed past her. She was the last person to step off. She brushed herself off so that she didn't look so rumpled. She was far too used to the hustle and bustle of the Ministry to be annoyed.

Harry was leaning against the security desk waiting for her. He nodded when he caught her eye, and came to meet her. "That was quick," he said, putting a hand on her back to steer her. "Walk with me."

She said nothing as Harry lead her back towards the lifts. "Where are we going?" Hermione asked, getting suspicious by his accelerated pace.

"Shh," he said lowly in her ear. "Meet me on level six, Muggle Liaison Office. Room 1108 B." He held open the lift for her, motioning for her to go in ahead of him. When she turned around he was gone. Hermione fixed her face immediately so that it did not mirror the confusion she felt. Clearly Harry did not want anyone to know what they were getting up to, and she was sure that he had good reason to behave the way he did. She waited patiently for the lift to stop at level six.

Hermione did not spend much time in the Muggle Liaison Office, but she knew where she was going. She did not hesitate before putting her hand on the doorknob and turning it. It was unlocked, as she expected. She looked into the small room, trying to find some significance in it. There was a lone desk with several manila folders and ringed binders stacked up on it, and several filing cabinets lined up against the walls. But other than that, nothing special. She put a hand to her chest, when her eyes roamed over a lone figure leaning casually, arms crossed, in the far corner of the room. He gave her a small smile when he caught her eye. Harry had somehow managed to beat her here although she was sure her lift had went up before he could get on one back in the Atrium. She shrugged and closed the door behind her making sure to perform several privacy charms on the room before she spoke.

"Okay, Harry," she said finally turning around. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry if I alarmed you," he said walking towards the desk. "I just wanted to make sure no prying ears could overheard us. I borrowed this room so we could speak privately." He pulled out the chair in front of the desk. "Please." He waited until she was seated before continuing. "We've had a breach in security. Somebody has been pawing through classified personal files in our department. Your files to be specific."

Hermione's eyes flew up in shock. "_What_?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I know. I was doing a routine check when I noticed one of the books had been disturbed. Laying open actually, as if they had been cut off before they could find whatever they were looking for." He shook his head. "Very strange. And then there was this." He opened one of the folders in front of her. Hermione peered down at the pages. Everything from her N.E. scores to her parent's home address was listed. She flipped through the pages and found a copy of her birth certificate. Her face froze in horror. Harry placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before continuing. "Whoever was going through your information seemed to be in a hurry. They didn't attempt to put anything back how they found it. It was very amateurish... But still they managed to get in here undetected, so whoever it was is still a serious threat. Even if nothing ever comes of this, what else could they have discovered if they had a mind to?" He ran a hand through his messy hair and sighed.

"Anyway, I went straight to Shacklebolt," he said looking at her seriously. Hermione nodded. She was in agreement with this. Kingsley Shacklebolt was the best Minister of Magic they had ever seen. She would have consulted him as well. "He told me to keep this very quiet and suggested I put somebody else in charge of this particular case. Something about a 'conflict of interests'," he waved a hand impatiently at the idea. "But I wouldn't hear of it. I'm personally leading this investigation. And I want you a part of it. We will find out who has been invading your privacy... and why. I won't have any foul play. Not in my office, and not on my best friend."

She nodded. She didn't really know what to say about the situation. One of their peers was up to no good, and for whatever reason that involved her. She tried to remain calm.

"Thank you for telling me. I really appreciate it, Harry."

"Don't be silly, 'Mione. You deserve to know. But you don't have to be worried. I _will_ find out what is going on. Trust me with that."

"I trust you with my life, Harry," she said looking up at him.

He gave her a small smile. "As I trust you with mine." He sighed again, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Hermione tutted sympathetically, putting a hand on his arm. "Long day, Chief?"

Harry groaned at his title, and Hermione smiled. Harry had been appointed Head Auror last year and he was still adjusting. Many of the senior Aurors were upset at this, but they couldn't deny that he was more than qualified. He had immediately considered her as his second, which aggravated even more people but she declined, claiming it would be a conflict of interest to work directly under her best friend. It was a silly thing to refuse, she realized now. Working under Acer was a nightmare. He had her chasing common criminals. Rookie stuff. A muggle police officer could solve the cases he assigned her. Everyday she sat behind her desk longer than she had the day before. Her talents were better put to work elsewhere. When this breach business was over with she might just take him up on his offer.

*******

When Hermione got home she still could not believe what kind of day she had. What kind of place were they running where ministry employees could go rummaging through personal files? And who was sneaky enough to get away with it? Hermione could not imagine why the security was getting so slack, but she knew she would have some suggestions for its improvement. Honestly, she, Harry and Ron had slipped into the ministry on more than one occasion unnoticed and unchecked when they were only teenagers. How did they expect to keep out a fully trained wizard or witch? She shook her head as she appeared in her flat, leaving her robes in the closet near the door.

"Draco?" she called out into the dark room. No response. She muttered a quick _lumos_ under her breath, illuminating the room as if she had flipped a light switch. There was a note addressed to her on the side table where she kept the post. She unfolded the paper and read the tidy script.

_Sorry I'm not home. I decided to stay and get some research done. I probably won't be home until around 8 so go ahead and have dinner without me. I love you._

_~Draco_

She sighed heavily, glancing at the time. Acer had really slackened her usual workload as of late, it was only 4:48pm. She groaned. She and Draco had been apart far longer, but the separation was almost unbearable now after such a strange day. She tossed the paper back onto the table and walked into the kitchen thinking about what exactly had occurred today. Besides the obvious breach, the fact that it seemed to somehow revolve around her made her uneasy. Somebody was looking for something on her. But for what? She had nothing to hide. And say they did find something to use against her, what exactly were they trying to accomplish? It didn't make any sense. She could throttle whoever was behind this. Her privacy was something she valued highly and no one seemed to want her to enjoy it lately. Hermione looked around the empty flat and felt immediately uncomfortable. Somebody was watching her. Could they know that she was here now, alone? A shiver rippled down her spine and her longing for Draco intensified. She wished he was here to help her make sense of this, to comfort her at the very least. Nothing felt so terrible when she was with him.

*******

Draco sat frustrated in the UCPC library. He knew there had to be a curse book somewhere with something similar to Hecate's Hex. Even Voldemort had based his spells off the work of someone else, whoever created Hectate's Hex couldn't be any different. But he felt like he had been through every book his organization had to offer, and they had quite an extensive selection. He was seriously considering a visit to Hogwarts restricted section, just to see if anything came up when he was interrupted.

"Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy," said a fluttery voice.

He looked up from his work to find a strawberry blonde intern hovering over his workspace. She was just out of Hogwarts but she already seemed to be exceedingly comfortable in her position. She was wearing expensive looking pink robes with a plunging neck line just below decency and a hem that cut off just above the knee. Even her smile suggested that she was up to anything but good. He was sure she dressed this way to get his attention but it did nothing but turn him off. When he was a weaker man he might have taken the bait, but now he couldn't even see any woman that wasn't Hermione. Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes and addressed her. "Yes, Kathrine?"

"You have a visitor waiting for you in the lobby," she said flipping her hair.

Draco raised an eyebrow. Hermione was the only person that ever came to see him, and the only person he would see anyway. Katherine knew this. But Hermione usually owled first. "What's wrong? Is she okay?"

Katherine shook her head looking slightly annoyed. "It's not _Hermione_." She didn't even try to hide the distaste in her voice.

Draco smiled to himself. "Who is it then, Katherine?"

She shrugged. "A man. He says he's family."

Draco's eyes flew way, way up. "Well, tell whoever it is that I'm on my way up." She nodded, and turned on her heel switching her hips as walked.

A wasted effort, Draco wasn't watching her. He put away his notes slowly, thinking. Draco didn't have any family that wasn't dead or imprisoned, not that he was aware of. And he was sure an escaped criminal would not be asking the receptionist to send someone for him. They would probably just bust in and kill him. He smirked at the thought. He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way to the lobby still pondering. He stopped dead in his tracks when he got there.

A tall man with dirty blond hair leaned against the receptionist's desk casually. Underneath his black robes he was very sharply dressed in gray tailored garbardine trousers and a crisp white button down shirt. Draco stared the man in his face. His eyes were a lighter gray than his own, but his skin was every bit as pale and fair. They certainly looked related. A friendly smile spread across the man's face.

"Well, hello Draco." His pronunciation was perfect but his slight accent hinted at French. He still had a drawl similar to Draco's.

His eyes narrowed. "Who the hell are you?"

He laughed and then extended his right hand. "Eridanus Bertrald. I'm your cousin."

Draco stared at him, ignoring his hand. "Bullshit."

Eridanus laughed again running a hand through his hair. Draco did that too when he was nervous. His eyes narrowed into slits, but Eridanus continued to smile politely. "I thought you might think so. Perhaps you would like to get some coffee and we could discuss this further." Draco looked at him suspiciously. "At a place of your choosing, of course," he added.

Draco looked at him a second longer before shrugging. "I suppose it couldn't hurt. There's a muggle coffee shop just down the street."

"Sounds perfect."

*******

Eridanus had been silent the entire walk and did not speak once they had sat down inside. Draco followed his lead. The only time they spoke was to order, which they did quickly, neither one of them taking the coffee into much consideration. Draco appreciated the silence because it gave him time to collect his thoughts. When they received their steaming cups, Draco took a long pull, not tasting the scalding liquid going down his throat. Eridanus blew at his coffee patiently watching Draco with an amused expression. Draco set down his mug firmly and sighed. Eridanus pushed his mug to the side, and laced his fingers on the table in front of him. "Are you ready to talk?" he asked calmly.

Draco pushed his cup aside too, mirroring Eridanus' stance. "I'm ready to listen."

Eridanus nodded. "I am the son of Phillius and Archaea Bertrald. My father was a French wizard. My mother is a witch from England. She was born Archaea Malfoy. She's your father's older sister."

"Wait, father never spoke of any sister." Draco interrupted. "He had an older brother, but he had no children. He died decades ago."

"Your father would never speak of my mother, if he knew of her at all. She was conceived outside of our grandfather's marriage. I'm sure you're more than familiar with how Malfoys feel about anything out of the norm. It would be disgraceful to acknowledge her to the rest of the family. So he didn't. He did however care for her, to an extent. He made sure she and my grandmother were comfortable monetarily. _Your_ grandmother knew, of course. She wasn't stupid. But it would sully her good name as well, so she never spoke of it." Draco stared at him, mouth slightly open. Eridanus continued. "I was born in France, where I attended Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. It is not an all girls school like most people think," he added to answer the question Draco hadn't asked. "I'm seven years your senior. When I graduated I came to England. I've been living between Wales and Le Havre, France for years. I have permanent residences in both countries."

Draco opened and closed his mouth several times. He picked up his cup and took another long sip before he managed to speak. "So we're related. I believe that. It sounds exactly like something we Malfoys would hide. Besides, any idiot could look at us see and see the resemblance. I'm... okay with that." Eridanus looked relieved. He appeared as if he was about to speak again but Draco raised a hand to stop him. "Hold on. There's something I don't understand. If you've been around this whole time, why are you now seeking me out?"

Eridanus looked down at his hands. He looked as if he was choosing his next words very carefully. "I wasn't... sure," he said finally. "If I would be accepted or not, if I made myself known."

Draco peered at him over his cup. "Seriously? You were afraid of rejection? My father probably would have been glad to meet you. You would have been a better son to him than I was."

Eridanus shook his head smiling darkly. "I would have been _exactly_ the same son to him that you were." He reached into his robes and procured a wrinkled copy of the Daily Prophet. He unfolded it to an inside story and tossed it on the table. Draco pulled it to him and scanned the page. It was a reprint of the article _Witch's Weekly_ had published about him and Hermione. Draco sneered.

"What the hell does this have to do with anything?"

"Almost everything. My late wife Odette was a muggle-born," he said quietly. "I didn't know if you had inherited the same pureblood prejudice as the rest of our family. So I kept myself at a distance, until I read this."

Draco nodded. "Fair enough... When did your wife... er, pass away?"

"She was _killed _shortly before the Second War ended... because of this." He rolled his sleeve up slightly. He did not reveal the whole thing but Draco knew exactly what it was.

Draco looked at him astounded. "How did that... happen?"

Eridanus averted his eyes. "You know how He operated," he said almost at a whisper. "I wanted to live, and I couldn't see any other option at the time."

"So they killed your wife and you somehow managed to escape?"

"I didn't escape. Not really. They let me live so I would suffer. But I think they assumed I would take my own life afterward, and they were right. They knew my personality. I would have... finished the job, if it wasn't for her. By some miracle she was alive so I took her and fled. I didn't know if the madness would ever end so I kept my existence and hers secret. With He-Who-Must―" He stopped himself and started over. "With _Voldemort_ skulking around I knew _she_ wouldn't be safe. I took her back to France and we've been there ever since until very recently. When I saw your story in the paper I knew that you would understand."

Draco put his fingertips to his temples, confused. "_She_? Who are you talking about? You said your wife was killed."

"I apologize. Odette _was_ killed. _She_ is my daughter. Her name is Pyxis."

* * *

Minor cliffy. Like I said, bear with me! Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a review!


	11. Muggleborn Shields

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is clearly JK's. Duh.**

Author's Note:

After four long months I am finally finished with this chapter! What's sad is that I struggled for months on the first part and then wrote the other 75% all in one day. I hope I caught all the typos, but be nice if you see some mistakes. I think my eyes are bleeding. Anyway, I changed the genre from romance/general to romance/mystery since mystery is now clearly present. There is a lot of Harry in this chapter, if you start feeling like he and Hermione are getting chummy it's because they _are_ chums. _Friends. Amigos. Amis_. They have been for years. Don't read too much into it, k?

Special shout out to _BlotOfInkOnFinger_ for leaving the 100th review for this story (yay!) and to _kazfeist_ for all the helpful insight.

Thanks for reading! Enjoy!

Mikey

* * *

Hermione surfed through her one hundred and thirty-six channels four or five more times before turning off the television. She tossed the remote on to the sofa and exhaled deeply, feeling the onset of a headache. She pressed her fingertips to her temples and willed her mind to relax. Breathing slowly she tried her hardest to focus on nothing at all, letting go of each errant thought as it entered her mind. It was a familiar practice. She used it whenever she needed a mental break. It usually worked, for the most part. Her mind was silent, but the room she couldn't quiet. The longer she sat still, the louder it became. The slight creak from underneath Crookshanks' light step made her uneasy. The faint sounds of the commuters on the the sidewalks below were almost deafening. For a moment, she was sure she could even make out the faint sound of magic buzzing in the air. Finally, when the clock on the wall announced nine o'clock, she jolted out of her seat, unable to sit still any longer. She was going to go mad if she had to sit alone in the flat a minute longer.

She wished so badly to be with Draco. But it would be terribly presumptuous of her to call on him at work and expect him to drop everything, especially when he was as thoroughly engrossed as she knew he was. She'd be ashamed of herself if she did. She couldn't bare to be the "needy" person in any relationship, but she could hardly stand to be alone at the moment. She had no desire to visit Harry and Ginny. Harry would know exactly why she sought their company and that irked her. She didn't want to give him any reason to believe that she was incapable of handling herself or that he had been wrong in confiding in her. She wouldn't go there. Ron was out of town training with the Chudley Cannons and Luna was currently doing research for the next edition of the Quibbler, so she couldn't go there. And she wouldn't dream of visiting her parents at a time like this when it could possibly put them in danger. That was completely out of the question. No, Draco was the only one she wanted to be with while she was feeling so anxious (or any other time), but Draco seemed set on burning the midnight oil. He was already an hour longer than he said he would be. She paced back and forth in front of the television, turning it back on with a thought to stifle the insufferable silence in the room, as well as the unease in her mind. After a moment she turned it off again, making up her mind. Draco wouldn't mind the interruption terribly if it was an emergency. She certainly believed that her life potentially being in danger constituted as an emergency.

Hermione appeared in the lobby of the UCPC only minutes later and walked with a business-like pace towards the receptionist's desk. There was a wizened old wizard facing her. He smiled as she approached recognizing her from her previous visits. "Hello there, Ms. Granger. How are you this evening?"

"Very fine, thank you," she lied and smiled. "Yourself?"

"Getting by, my dear. Getting by. Are you here on business?" he said shuffling some papers as he spoke.

"Why, no..." she said looking at him confused. She was never here on any particular "business." No business that concerned him, anyway. "I'm here for Draco," she said slowly. "Could you let him know I'm on my way to his office?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said returning her bewildered stare. "Mr. Malfoy isn't in... He left a little before 7pm, Miss."

Hermione's expression faltered, but only slightly. Draco had been gone for over two hours and hadn't felt it necessary to drop back in at home. Hermione's eyes narrowed as she spoke to the man calmly. "Would you happen to know where he went?"

"No, ma'am. I wouldn't. Katherine should know, but I don't believe she's in either. She left shortly after Mr. Malfoy did."

"Of course she did," Hermione mumbled to herself. "Well, thank you, sir. I'll just be on my way then."

"I am sorry. I wish I could have been of more help," he said looking concerned.

Hermione merely gave him a nod and turned away. She could not imagine where Draco was if not here. It wasn't as if he had too many friends. Harry and Ginny were the only two people he ever willingly talked to that she knew of. It wasn't like him at all to go off without saying anything. She rounded a corner into an empty hallway and leaned against the wall, sighing. She wanted desperately to share the day's events with him but more than that she wanted to see him. He always took a piece of her away with him when he left, however briefly. With him away she couldn't bear to go back to the flat. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but she was afraid of being alone just then. Hermione felt her pulse quicken at the thought and put a hand on her face to calm herself as a new wave of agitation settled over her. She wondered if her pursuer would find any pleasure in seeing her so affected. Hyperventilating in a dark hallway because she was too afraid to go home. She scowled at herself. She would give that person no such satisfaction. She was not going to go back to her flat and sit there with her tail between her legs, waiting for Draco to come and save her. She was a grown witch after all, and a damned good one, at that. She needed no greater protection than that she could provide herself. Besides, if Draco could run off on solo missions without a word, so could she. With that decided she gathered her cloak into her arms and walked beyond the anti-apparation wards of the building.

She reappeared in an unsuspecting alleyway near a local muggle pub. She put on her cloak to block the evening chill and walked purposefully towards the pub's entrance. Hermione did not often drink, but this was most certainly her favorite place to when she had the inclination. Her first visit had been two years ago with Ginny. She had accompanied Ginny there after a particularly nasty fight with Harry. They had chosen the spot because of its scrutiny. They were highly unlikely to meet any wizards or witches there so Ginny was free to rave and rant about "that horse's arse, Harry-_bloody-_Potter" as she had repeatedly called him during the course of the evening. Hermione smiled at the memory, she was already in much better spirits when she stepped into the pub.

It was very nearly empty so she sat down on a stool in front of the bar. The room was comfortably warm, slightly stuffy from the lack of ventilation and smoke. She wrinkled her knows a little. Then she noticed a bowl of peanuts in front of her and really grimaced. The thought of the countless dirty hands that had dipped into that bowl was enough to turn her stomach. With her elbow she pushed the glass bowl out of her immediate reach and relaxed enough to soak in the atmosphere. She was seated almost directly in front of the television. The evening news was running quietly, and from speakers all around the room she could hear music playing. The song was just loud enough not to drown the television. It was a popular American pop singer whose name she couldn't quite remember at the time. She drummed her fingers on the counter in time with the familiar tune. She found herself so pleased just to be out of her apartment that she wasn't sure if she would drink at all, but something, rather someone, changed her plans.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?"

Hermione looked up from her hands to find a man standing before her. He had a slight figure, and an extremely boring face. He wasn't ugly, but his features were so normal, so average. She swore that even if they had been previously introduced, she could cross paths with him several times a day and never notice him. She smiled politely and answered him. "I'm very fine, thank you. Just trying to decide on which drink I should order."

"A pretty lady like yourself I'd say would order something very classy. How about an apple martini?" She made a face, considering this but he did not wait for an answer. "Bartender," the man called. "A rum and coke, straight up, and an apple martini for the lovely lady."

Hermione smiled her thanks besides her annoyance at being approached and reached inside her purse for her pocketbook. He saw and merely waved a hand. "It's on me."

"Oh, no. I couldn't possibly," she began.

"Please, it would make my night." He glowed at her with what she was sure he thought was a winning smile.

She sighed and tried to be complacent. "Well thank you, sir. That's very kind of you."

"Think nothing of it, love. It's no trouble at all." They remained silent while their drinks were prepared. Hermione tried to focus on the television so that he wouldn't try to strike up conversation. She muttered her thanks when she received her drink, keeping her eyes trained on the news. After a few moments he seemed to realize she was not going to look at him. He followed her gaze to the television and watched too.

"_In other news, another disappearance has been reported. Tracy Fuller, age 22, was last seen..."_

The words never made it to her. She was lost in thoughts of her own. She was worried like she had never been before. Not about her life being in danger. No, that was something she had grown accustom to long ago. Whoever was coming for her could come, and she would deal with it accordingly. Her welfare was never her primary concern, all she cared about were her loved ones. They could be harmed to get to her. She had never been a direct target in an attack, so she could only slightly begin to understand the anxiety Harry used to go through. If she was being rational, she didn't have much to worry about. At this point in life she had already begrudgingly accepted that Harry and Ron could care for themselves. She did worry about them from time to time, but there was really no basis to it. She was terribly tempted to relocate her parents, but she wasn't at that point of anxiety yet either. She didn't think her pursuer was after her because she was a muggle-born. Her parents were probably in no immediate danger, but she made a mental note to reinforce the protective charms on their house anyway. The only person left to worry about was the person she worried about the most lately. Hermione had been trying her hardest not to pine over Draco but she was failing miserably. She was sorely reminded of her years at Hogwarts, when she used to cry over Ron and have her little tantrums. Only she really couldn't compare it to those days because what she had with Draco was much more than a teenage crush. She sighed. _Where _was _Draco? _she thought. Her grip on her drink tightened considerably. The contents of her glass shook although her hand did not at all. Hermione noticed and slowly released the vice grip she held it with. She pushed the glass a couple of inches in front of her and stared at it. She would blow something up by accident if she didn't keep her head.

"_Felicia Grant, 26, Katherine McKinney, 24, Lauryn Shields, 21, and Meagan Stickler, 23, are still yet to be found. Officials are left puzzled as the investigation continues..."_

"News is never good, is it?" the man said under his breath.

Hermione broke out of her reverie and looked at him from the side or her eye. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he followed the story. She took a sip from her glass as she thought about the news she had received lately. "It certainly seems that way, doesn't it?" she said quietly.

Hermione sat in companionable silence listening to the rest of the report. He seemed to have realized that he may have been coming on too strong earlier and pulled back. She was glad for it. They're exchange now was light and easy, and she found herself comfortable chatting with him. The meteorologist was halfway through the next day's weather report when Hermione felt the hairs on the back of her neck tingle. She ignored it at first, but the feeling wouldn't go away. Her instincts were telling her to look behind her towards the door, but she didn't immediately. She threw back the remainder of her drink and got up from her seat. Her neighbor looked up at her. She motioned behind her with her thumb.

"Need to visit the restroom," she said quietly, giving him a small smile. He nodded and turned back to the television, but Hermione's attention wasn't on him. Her route to the back of the pub gave her a brief, but perfect view of the door. There was a lone figure standing just outside. She pretended to glance at the time for a short second. She looked back and the figure was gone. Even if the person had ran she would have at least glimpsed their departure. _Much too fast to be muggle,_ she thought. She almost smiled to herself. Whoever it was would have to do better than that.

Hermione spent a convincing three minutes in the restroom before apparating outside her flat.

Hermione unlocked the door slowly, being careful not to make too much noise. She turned the knob carefully and took almost a full minute just to swing the door open wide enough for her to slip through. She rolled her eyes at herself. _I'm not a teenager coming in after curfew_, she thought. _I'm a grown woman, nobody tells _me _when to come to and go_. She straightened out of her unintentional crouch and closed the door behind her with less caution. She hung her coat in the closet next to the door and sighed. She wasn't much looking forward to seeing Draco just yet, if he was home at all. But she cut that thought short as it materialized. As much as she wished she could skip over the heated conversation that would surely follow, she just wanted to be next to him. She dragged her feet to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, staring into the darkness of the room as she sipped. She narrowed her eyes at a particular spot on the couch. She might have imagined it, but she thought she saw something move in the shadows. She closed her eyes and took another long pull from her glass. She was starting to see things. It had been a very long night and the strain was starting to catch up to her. She opened her eyes again slowly. There was definitely something there. She set her glass down on the counter and took a step closer to the living room. She started to feel for her wand when a voice stopped her.

"Are you going to hex me?" it asked.

"_Oh,_ shit," Hermione swore, exhaling loudly and placing a hand to her heart. She snapped and the lights turned on. "_Merlin_, Draco. What are you doing sitting in the dark?"

"Where have you been?" he asked quietly, his voice hard.

Hermione looked at his grave face and immediately took offense to his stern school teacher demeanor. "Excuse me? Where have _I_ been? Where have _you_ been? I went looking for you at work and nobody knew where you were."

Draco waved a hand somewhat impatiently. "It's a long story... And I would have told you all about it had you been home. Or at least have let me know where to find you. I came in around ten. There was no sign of you. No note, no anything. It's not like you to be out all night."

"Well, if you had come home, or at least _owled_ me, I wouldn't have went out."

"You're way off base. I'm not telling you that you can't go out," he said rolling his eyes.

"Good, because it's not your place to say."

"Hermione, don't go there. You know I wasn't implying anything like that. You weren't here. I was worried about you."

"Oh please, don't give me that. You didn't worry enough to tell me where you were running off to in the first place," she said crossing her arms haughtily. "You look pretty comfy. If you were so worried about me why didn't you come looking for me?"

He stood up and mirrored agitated her pose. "I did. I went to Harry. He sent out a search party for you."

She slapped a hand to her forehead. "So that was one of Harry's men? You two worked yourselves up into enough hysterics to send out a search? Goodness, I haven't been gone for four hours! That was completely unnecessary. I wasn't even on a mission! It's not protocol to dispatch a search and rescue for a missing _inactive_ Auror for at least twelve hours. Harry of all people knows that!"

"What did you expect us to do, Hermione? You're Harry's best friend, and you're my..." He paused as his face softened a bit. "Well, my everything. You must know that by now... At least you should... Anyway, we both felt that your situation was above protocol."

"Fine, you sent out a search. You found me." she said slowly, not looking at him.

"We did," he said simply.

"And you didn't feel the need to come barreling into the pub, guns blazing? You didn't care to know what I was doing?" she asked looking back at him.

He smirked, but there wasn't much humor in it. "Harry's man made sure that you were in no immediate harm. Harry told me when he found you, and that was it. I'm guessing you ditched him though. I don't know if I should be impressed with you or disappointed by Harry's man. I hope you Aurors are better at your work than that." The corners of Hermione's mouth twitched despite her anger. "But the point is you're a big girl, Hermione. You can do whatever you want. And even though I most certainly _am_ interested in everything you do, I'm not under the impression that you'll tell me what you're up to, every hour of every day. Just please, _please_ don't go disappearing when you're life is possibly in danger." He looked at her knowingly.

"Harry spoke to you," she said. He nodded. "Er... how much did he tell you?" she asked quietly.

"Enough," he said, his face again gravely serious. "He's going to chew you out tomorrow."

She raised an eyebrow defiantly. "And are _you_ planning on chewing me out as well?"

This time he really smiled. "No," he rolled his eyes. "Seriously, woman. What good would it do?" He crossed the room in two strides and drew her into his arms. Hermione's eyes opened wide. He put his face into her hair as he held her tightly, chest heaving. It took her a moment to recover from his sudden change of mood but then she wrapped her arms around his waist and nestled into him. She could feel Draco's heart beating quickly against her cheek, and she sobered. She knew how upset she would have been if the tables had been turned. She pressed a soft kiss to his neck and he seemed to relax. His breathing slowed and he raised a hand to run it gently through her hair.

"I'm sorry," Hermione mumbled against his skin. He didn't answer, instead he tilted her chin to look her in the eyes. His facial expression was neutral, his grey eyes were swirling pools of smoke. He was studying her carefully, eyes narrowed. He seemed to not just be looking at her, but inside of her, as well. Hermione wondered vaguely what it was he saw. Did he see the insecure little girl she tried to hide? Could he see the self-conscious teenager walking the halls of Hogwarts? Or was it the young woman on the verge of adulthood, journeying through the unknown, wondering how she was going to keep her two best friends and consequently the wizarding, world alive? She hoped he couldn't. She worked too hard to keep up the facade...

Draco he ran a thumb over her pouted lips, bringing her back to the present. "Why do you look so put out?" he said softly. "I'm not mad at you."

She shook her head, and looked away. The Ministry intruder came back into her mind. "I'm not put out," she said stepping out of his embrace. "It's just been a long day." She turned away from him and made her way towards the bedroom.

Draco looked after her confused for a moment before following her. He caught up to her in the hallway and grabbed her arm. Hermione stopped walking but did not turn around. Draco felt something like alarm rise in his chest. Hermione never turned away from him. "Are you angry with me?" he asked quietly, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you earlier... I swear if I knew I would have—"

She shook her head again, staring at floor in front of her. "I'm not mad at you."

Draco let out an uncharacteristic sigh. "Then what the hell is wrong with you?" he drawled.

"Nothing is wrong," she said, her voice hollow.

Draco scoffed despite his growing nervousness. Anyone looking at their situation would beg to differ. Hermione stood in front of Draco, head bent, one arm out awkwardly behind her, the arm Draco was still attached to. Draco grew paler with each passing moment. He tugged her gently, forcing her to turn around. "Will you please speak to me, Hermione? You're driving me crazy." He put both hands on the sides of her face and held her until she finally looked him in the eyes.

She remained silent for a moment longer before saying quietly, "I'm scared, Draco... I'm really scared." She laughed weakly. "It's crazy how terrified I am. I feel like I haven't been properly scared for seven years now. And it's not that I've forgotten what it feels like. I never could. But this isn't like when Voldemort was here... For me this is worse."

Draco's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Hermione, you are a muggle-born witch," he said slowly. "What could possibly scare you _more_ than Voldemort?"

Hermione looked away from him. "People. People scare me more than Voldemort."

"Excuse me?"

She sighed. "Voldemort was never truly a person, and because of that he wasn't as scary as he thought he was." Draco continued to look puzzled. Hermione chuckled to herself. "How can I explain this so that you understand," she said almost to herself. "Voldemort _was_ terrible. He tortured and murdered... tore families apart. But all he wanted was power and immortality. He may have killed those who got in his way, but all he wanted was power, and the power to stay alive...

Voldemort lacked what makes the rest of us human. Genuine, raw emotion. A person driven by emotion, whether it be sadness, or lust, is far more dangerous than someone who doesn't feel any of those things at all. All Voldemort did was kill, Draco. Death may be the last thing to happen to you, but it's not always the worst."

Draco stared at her appalled for several uncountable moments. "Hermione... you're scaring me. What exactly do you think is going to happen to you?"

"I have no clue..." she said slowly. "And now that I think about it... that is a far more troubling issue."

"You're going to be fine." Draco said, stiffly. He looked almost angry now. "I won't let anything happen to you. You're not going to be murdered."

She tugged at a lock of her hair, thinking. "You know, I'm not really worried about that. I honestly don't think this is about me." Draco was about to interject so she held up her hand. "I mean, obviously it _involves_ me. But if it was a matter of wanting me dead, then someone would have made an attempt to kill me already. Whoever this is was able to get in and out of the Ministry undetected. If killing me was the objective they could have already done it. In one of several ways... Whatever is going on is much bigger than me."

Draco ran shaky hands through his hair, leaving his hands together on top of his head. Hermione could tell that he was frustrated. But the fact that he was worried enough for the both of them, and then some, made it easier for her to relax. Her thought processes were coming through full steam again and she wasn't as high strung as she had been earlier. Had she really been so upset that she had to seek comfort at a muggle bar? She could have apparated from the UCPC back to the flat and seen Draco only an hour later if she had her head on straight. She chastised herself mentally and then focused on the present. Draco had not moved. He was staring at the ceiling, stone-faced.

Hermione couldn't help but smile a little. Even when his features were marred by stress he was still the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She put a hand on his cheek. He kept his eyes trained on the ceiling. Hermione sighed. They're positions had changed so many times that night, it was hard to keep track of who was comforting who. "I'm sorry I upset you," she said to him.

"Don't be," he said before she had even finished the apology. "It's not you I'm upset with. It's this entire bloody situation." He lowered his hands and rested them on her hips. "I'm just worried about you.

"You don't have to be. I'm fine, perfectly safe."

He made a derisive noise. "Yeah, you're safe for right now..."

Hermione considered this for a moment before taking both Draco's hands in her own. She walked them backwards towards their bedroom, her eyes never leaving his.

"All we have is right now," she whispered.

* * *

"So would you like to know where I was last night?" Draco asked lazily, watching Hermione from the bed. She was late for work and was running helter-skelter around the room getting ready.

"Of course, I do. But unless it's a very short story I'm afraid I don't have the time." She was looking for her wand holster in the closet where she kept the rest of her gear. She finally gave up and summoned it. Draco laughed.

"Unfortunately, it's a very _long_ story," he drawled. "Shall I give you the gist of it?"

"Please," Hermione said distracted.

"I met a cousin yesterday."

Hermione paused halfway through putting on a shoe. "Oh, I wasn't aware that you had any other relations... outside of prison, that is."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Nor was I. Like I said, it's a long story. But he saw our story in the paper."

"Who didn't?" she muttered under her breath.

He ignored her. "He'd like to meet you."

This caught her off guard. "Really? He does know that I'm a muggle-born, right?"

"Yes."

"And that doesn't bother him?"

He smirked. "Not in the least."

Hermione smiled too. "Well, then I can't wait to meet him."

"Good, because I invited him over for dinner tonight." He got up and pulled her into his arms, giving her a kiss that was slow and drugging. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, getting lost in the familiar sensations. He chuckled when he finally pulled away. "You're late."

Hermione cursed and ran to the door.

The first thing Hermione noticed as she walked into her cubical was a memo on her desk. She immediately recognized Acer's stationary. _What does he want?_ she thought miserably, opening it. "_My office, Granger," _was all it said. She sighed. What had she done now?

She walked into Acer's office not bothering to knock. "Look, I was only fifteen minutes late. You know I'm usually... Harry?"

Harry sat at Acer's desk, peering at her from behind a stack of newspapers. "Hey, Hermione."

She looked at him suspiciously, closing the door behind her slowly. "Where's Acer?"

"On sabbatical. Did you know that man has not taken a single personal day for the last three years? Sad really..."

"So you're personally taking over his division in the mean time?"

He smirked. "Of course not. You are."

Hermione eyes grew wide. "You can't be serious."

"Deadly. I can't think of anyone more qualified for the position. I wish you would take it permanently, as a matter of fact." Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "But that subject is for another time," he said impatiently. He leaned forward in his chair and narrowed his eyes at her. "You know I'm incredibly angry with you, right?"

Hermione looked at the ceiling, shaking her head. "Oh, please save it, Harry. I've already been through this with Draco..."

"Marshall said you gave him the slip. He wasn't very happy about that."

Hermione smile despite her growing aggravation. "It wasn't difficult. I think your men are getting sloppy."

"Nah, he just wasn't trying very hard. He may not have been trying at all, actually. You're not a criminal, why would he have hidden from you?" He tapped his fingers on the desk, brooding. "What _I'm_ still trying to understand is what the hell were you doing at a bar. A _muggle_ one, at that."

Hermione sat down in the chair in front of him. "Well, obviously, I didn't want anyone to recognize me at a _wizard's_ bar..." Harry gave her a bored stare, clearly unsatisfied with her answer. Hermione sighed. "Merlin, Harry. I was just feeling a little weird, okay? Draco wasn't home, so I went out. I didn't feel like bothering anybody else, so that was the only place I thought to go."

"I wish you would have talked to me first. Something could have happened to you."

"I can't believe we're having this conversation!" she said incredulously. "I'm a grown woman, if I want to go out, I'll go out."

Harry raised his hands in surrender. "Fine... Just please, don't do anything reckless."

Hermione laughed. "You have no idea how strange that sounds coming from you."

Harry ran a hand through his wild hair, embarrassed. "Funny, isn't it? It's all this _dad_ business. I worry a lot more now. About everything."

"It's part of the job description," she said patting his hand on the desk. "But you're a natural, Harry. Really."

He muttered his thanks while he colored, looking down. Hermione smiled. Harry had never been good with compliments. It was an endearing trait. She changed the subject to something he was more comfortable with. "So, Chief... What's on the itinerary for the day?"

Harry's eyes darkened. He pushed the stack of newspapers towards Hermione. She hadn't realized it before, but now she could see that the pictures were still. They were muggle papers. She picked up the one on top, eyes roaming over the page. It was dated two weeks ago. She looked at Harry quizzically. "What's all this?"

"Read the cover stories."

She skimmed through the first page. West Ham United won. A Member of Parliament retired. A young woman disappeared. She moved the paper to the bottom of the stack and read the next front page. Celebrity scandal. Queen honors fallen solider. Young woman disappeared. Her eyes narrowed as she shuffled to the next. Four dead from virus. Government creating 1300 new jobs. Another woman missing, no clues regarding previous disappearances. She picked up the last two papers, holding them side to side. More missing women, investigators growing anxious. Five muggle women missing altogether within the last two weeks, the most recent disappearing just two days ago. She spread out the pages in front of her. They were all very beautiful women in between the ages of 21 and 26. Most could guess what was happening. Some sick person must have taken an interest in these women and stole them away. That was the obvious conclusion. But the details didn't read that way at all to Hermione. Katherine McKinney goes on her lunch break, never returns to the office. Lauryn Shields, leaves in between classes at university. Meagan Stickler tells her friends she's going home early during an outing at the Underground. All of the women seemed to be acting on their own free will. However, she was convinced otherwise as she read about Felicia Grant.

"_Grant was last seen in a grocery store pushing her four year old son down the aisles in a shopping cart. Grant reportedly walked away from the boy and exited the store, she did not return. Reporters interview mortified husband._

"_Felicia is an amazing person and a wonderful mother. I refuse to believe that she just walked_ _away from our son. Something else happened. Someone... made her walk away..." Mr. Grant, stops to soothe his son as he cries out for his mother. "Someone took Felicia from us," he said firmly. "We just want her back...' Grant refused to make further comment, but witnesses say that..."_Hermione stopped reading.

"These aren't muggle abductions," she said pushing the papers away with disgust.

"I know. They're clearly under a spell."

"Do we have any leads?"

He shook his head. "This just came to my attention. The Enforcers were going to start investigating, but Shacklebolt asked that the Aurors take the case instead. This isn't the work of the average criminal." He motioned to several folders on the desk. "These are the muggle police reports."

Hermione took them, her mind already focused on the task at hand. She needed to collect a team. She listed off people in her head. Perkins, Anderson, Nester, Roberts... She stopped. She had no idea how long Acer was going to be out and that might greatly affect her plans.

"How long am I covering for Acer, exactly?" she asked slowly.

"I believe he is taking two weeks off," Harry said, offhandedly. Hermione thought he looked as though he didn't care if Acer returned at all. His next statement confirmed it. "I hate to say it, but I am terribly glad Acer is away. I don't like to interfere with how he manages his division, because for the most part he does a great job. But everyday I see one of my biggest assets' skills being wasted and I want to step in and intervene." He got up and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. This was a familiar habit of his when he was scheming. Hermione waited for the ball to drop. "The only reason I haven't pulled you from him is because I couldn't stand to hear the favoritism crap... But it's getting silly now. I'd gladly give you his job as second today if you would take it. That way I would have you working with me, where I need you."

She tried to look nonplussed, but failed. It was a very tempting offer. There was so much she could, so much she would have enough influence to change. Hermione bit her lip. Harry could see that she was considering it and he smiled, wriggling his eyebrows at her suggestively. She rolled her eyes at his antics, but sobered. She didn't have time to mull it over. There was work that needed to be done. "Later, Harry. I'm anxious to start this."

He smiled briefly before putting on his Auror face. "All business, I like that. The first thing I want is more information about these women. Visit their work, find out who they talk to, if they know about us, etcetera."

Hermione nodded. "I was thinking about the team. I know I'll need Perkins, Anderson..."

Harry waved a hand impatiently. "Never mind them. You and I are working on this personally." He tapped the newspapers with his wand and they shrunk. He stored them safely inside his cloak. He motioned to the police reports. Hermione gave handed them to him, staring at him through narrowed eyes. He shrunk those to. "And don't think I've forgotten about your situation. I still have a team on that, don't worry." He walked to the door and turned around when he noticed that Hermione was not following.

"Mione."

"Harry."

"Let's _go..._" he said, looking at her impatiently, pointing at the door.

She shook her head. "Harry, what are you doing? You are the Head Auror. You don't do field work."

He put his hands in his hair aggravated. "Hermione don't fight me on this. I want to feel useful again. I'm going to go spare if I have to spend another day behind my desk," he groaned.

"Ginny's not going to be very happy. She wanted you to take the job so you would do just that, sit behind a desk. She doesn't want you doing anything... _reckless_," she said, quoting him.

I'm not reckless," he scowled. "She'd do the same thing if she was in my position."

Hermione thought for a moment and then sighed. "I can't argue with that." She finally got up from where she sat and said, "Where to first, Chief?"

* * *

They started with the first of the disappearances. Katherine McKinney worked as an intern in a London law office so they apparated to a secluded alleyway behind the building. Harry transfigured his cloak into a sports coat, while Hermione who normally went to work in muggle attire, expanded the briefcase she carried in her pocket to its normal size. Harry then motioned to his face and Hermione altered it with some quick spell work. She was still better at it than he was. Harry looked at her pointedly when she was finished.

"What?"

"You too."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's hardly necessary. No one is going to recognize me." She usually didn't bother changing her own appearance. She thought her face was blasé enough to go unnoticed.

He waited. "Humor me, Hermione."

She sighed but acquiesced. After a few waves of her wand she was finished. Her hair was platinum blond and sleek instead of dark brown and bushy. Her eyes had changed from chocolate brown to a stormy grey. Her usual button nose was now longer and slightly pointed. Her face was thinner too.

Harry looked at her annoyed. "That's real cute, Hermione. Now I have to look at a female Malfoy all day."

She stuck out her tongue at him. Harry rolled his eyes at her and walked towards the office's entrance. Hermione followed. When they were inside the show was on. Harry walked purposefully to the receptionist, pulling a badge out of his coat pocket. The woman put on a weary face as they approached.

"If you're here about McKinney you want the the third floor." She pointed to the elevators. Harry nodded at her curtly and motioned for Hermione to go ahead of him. When they stepped onto the floor there was a smartly dressed woman waiting for them. She was around Harry and Hermione's age by the looks of her, but the expression on her face was severe, like an old school teacher.

"More of you, huh?" She looked angry. "Unless you've come to tell us you found Katy, we have nothing new to say."

"We apologize for bothering you, but we just have a few quick questions and we'll be on our way," Harry said, as courteously as possible.

"Fine," she said crossing her arms. "Get on with it."

"I'm Jean Blanc," Hermione said trying to break the ice. "This is my partner, Robert Clarke." Harry nodded. "And you are?" Hermione extended her hand.

"Patricia Vaughn," she answered, grudgingly shaking Hermione's hand.

"It's a pleasure, Ms. Vaughn. Were you well acquainted with Ms. McKinney?"

"You could say that. She's my best mate."

"I am very sorry about her disappearance, Ms. Vaughn," she said, and she really was. She hoped that her sincerity translated. "Could you tell us a little about her? About her personality?"

Patricia smiled a little bit. After a while she answered. "Katy is the nicest person you will ever meet. She brightens up a room when she enters it. She's always happy, it's infectious. And she's just so sensitive. Well, sensitive doesn't quite explain it. _Aware_ is a better word, although it doesn't sound right... I don't know how to describe it properly, but it's like she _feels_ more than most people, you know? She notices the little things." She paused and took a deep breath. "But I'm rambling. I can't really tell you more than that." She looked at them skeptically. "I hope you're doing all that you can to find her."

"I assure you that we are. Thank you, Ms. Vaughn."

"That was pointless," Harry muttered as they left the building.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so. There was something about the way Patricia spoke about Katy. It makes me think that we're missing something."

"Missing the fact that Patricia has a serious girl crush on her friend?"

"Don't be ridiculous, she just misses her."

Harry said something disbelieving under his breath but Hermione didn't catch it. She thumbed through the police files as they stood again in the alley. "Ready?" she asked holding out her hand. Harry put his hand in hers and they disappeared.

Lauryn Shields stayed on campus at her university in London, but her parents lived southeast in Cranbrook, Kent. Harry and Hermione apparated just outside their neighborhood, under the cover of the woods.

The walk to the Shields home was short and uneventful. Before Hermione knew it Harry was knocking in a very business-like manner on the front door. They waited for several moments and then he knocked again. Hermione noted that there were no cars in the drive.

"I don't think there is anyone home, Harry."

He peeked inside through the glass panels of the front door. "I do believe you're right," he said finally. "I still want to take a look inside though. Let's go." He gestured down the pathway through the grass. They walked back down the street to avoid any suspicion. It wouldn't do at all to have an inquisitive neighbor see two strangers walk into an empty, locked house. They would apparate in. When they were well out of sight Harry took Hermione's hand. Hermione closed her eyes, preparing herself for the uncomfortable feeling that was apparation, but nothing happened. She opened an eye and looked up at Harry. He stood still, his eyes narrowed. "Hmm... that's interesting," he said.

Hermione waited for him to continue but he didn't. "What's wrong?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"Try to apparate inside the house."

Hermione looked at him skeptically, but obeyed. She visualized herself inside the space. She saw the Shields' foyer clear in her mind's eye and then let herself be there. But she was rebuffed. Something blocked her from completing the jump. She opened her eyes in shock.

"There is an anti-apparation ward on the house," she said alarmed. "I thought the Shields were muggles."

"They _are_ muggles," he said slowly. "We need to get inside that house."

It wasn't impossible. It wouldn't even be hard. The wards were a minor set back, if one at all. But the fact that the Shields house was under magical protection was suspicious. Harry reached inside his coat and pulled out his invisibility cloak. Wordlessly, he threw the cloth over both of them and apparated. They were outside the Shields house again but this time in the backyard. Harry tried to slide the glass door open. It didn't budge. Hermione suspected that he didn't think it would have been open anyway, so she said nothing. Harry had to try several spells on the back door before it opened. This irked Harry more than he wanted Hermione to know. She pretended to be oblivious to his agitation as they finally slipped inside.

Harry waved his hand and the curtains shut. He pulled off the cloak when it was safe, taking in his surroundings.

Hermione thought the house was nice enough. The kitchen was modern and the living room was tasteful. Comfortable looking furniture on clean white carpet. There was a large family photograph over the fireplace. Mr. and Mrs. Shields, Lauryn as a teenager, and a boy, probably only a couple of years younger than Lauryn. Hermione smiled at the picture, then made her way upstairs while Harry perused the downstairs office. There were three doors on the right side of the hall and two on the left. She made a guess, choosing the last door on the right. She slowly turned the doorknob and peeked inside.

She was right. This was Lauryn's room. There were pictures of her covering every inch of the royal purple walls, except for the one the dresser was against. Hermione moved across the room to examine them. Lauryn was gorgeous. Perfectly tanned with big baby doll eyes. She seemed to do everything. Skiing in one picture. Snorkeling in the next. Pictures of her family. And pictures of who Hermione assumed to be her best friends. The same four people appeared throughout the collage. A short Hispanic girl with black hair that fell below her waist. A tall Black girl that could have been a model (she reminded Hermione of Draco's old friend Blaise). Then two boys. A round faced Hawaiian boy and a tall Hispanic boy. Every one of them was brown skinned and exotic. Beautiful in their own way. Then something dawned on Hermione. She searched the pictures again thinking. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she would know it when she saw it. The beach. A concert. A museum. A theater. The sky was crystal clear and blue in every picture. She narrowed her eyes as she found the picture she was looking for. The five friends stood outside on the curb of a huge drop off. Behind them in the distance was a sign written in huge white letters. Hollywood. They were from California. The Shields were Americans. Hermione didn't know why but this felt significant. She called downstairs.

"Hey, Harry!" she called into the hall.

"Yeah?"

"Come up here!"

Harry walked through the open door moments later and paused. "Wow," he said appreciatively. "Nice pics."

"Very," Hermione agreed. "Did you know they were American? The Shields?"

"Yeah," Harry said as he looked around the room. "I noticed while I was going through the office. Mr. Shields used to play college football. _American_ football. He's got trophies all over the place..." He stopped in front of the dresser as Hermione continued to peer at the pictures. "Did you see this?"

"See what?" she said turning around.

"There's a door behind this dresser."

Hermione shook her head. She hadn't seen it. The top of the door barely reached her shoulder and it was painted the same royal purple as the walls. She had been immediately drawn to the picture collage when she entered the room. She hadn't had time to notice the tiny seam that was the space between the door and the wall. The fact that she missed it greatly annoyed her. Harry could tell and was smug about it.

"Well, let's see what's behind it," he said smirking at her. He waved his wand and the dresser slid from in front of the door.

There was a small doorknob halfway down. He pulled. It was locked.

"Alohamora," Hermione said before Harry could speak.

He looked up at her over his shoulder. "Feel better?" he asked sarcastically.

"Open the door, Harry."

He did and Hermione crouched into the dark space. She rose her head slowly and found that she could stand up straight. Harry took a little longer to maneuver the small opening, but finally managed to get in.

"Damn, it's dark."

Hermione's eye roll went unseen. "Lumos," she said aloud.

The entire room was lit as if she flipped a switch. Her jaw dropped.

"Merlin's balls..." Harry said.

Every inch of the room screamed magic.

There were more pictures on the walls, very similar to ones in the main room. They featured the same young people. But these pictures were quintessentially different in the fact that these pictures _moved_. Hermione stared, far too amazed for someone who had known magic most of her life. The pictures captivated her. Lauryn played softball in one. The short girl pitched while Lauryn swung. She never missed. In another she hugged her two girlfriends as they laughed at the beach, the wind blowing their hair into their faces. She pushed the tall Hispanic boy off of a pier and laughed when he fell in. In the next picture she was kissing him and then blushing madly under her sun-kissed skin. She cheered as she held a Bludger under her arm and the Hawaiian boy held up a Snitch, smiling. _They played Quidditch at their school_, Hermione thought. In another picture the five of them were beaming, formally dressed in a large room. It reminded Hermione strongly of the Great Hall in Hogwarts. Except that this room didn't resemble a castle at all. It looked more like... a ritzy hotel. Very modern. Very American. Hermione was still trying to shake off the shock.

She continued to look around the room. There were several posters of the Sweetwater All-Stars, a Quidditch team from Texas. A cauldron was filled to the brim with Quidditch gear. A Bludger was perched haphazardly on top of the mound. There was an owl's cage in the corner and next to it a bookshelf. Hermione was intrigued as she read the titles. Some she recognized, others were completely new to her. She laughed at _Arithmancy for Dummies_ and _So, You're Taking Advanced Potions. Vol. 3._ She continued to chuckle as she plucked a large book from the shelf. _Pacific Southwest School of Magic, At a Glance._ She read the inside cover. "_Pacific Southwest School of Magic, Established 1903. Tucked safely out of muggle reach in the National Forest of California, Pacific Southwest School of Magic teaches young wizards and witches to excel in the magical arts..." _Harry was speaking to her, but she wasn't listening. She put the book back as he called her name again.

"Hermione, look. An Eagle 700." He said smiling, holding out Lauryn's broom. "I've read about this before. It's the American equivalent to a Firebolt. I can't believe this," he said shaking his head in disbelief.

"Harry, this is worse than we thought."

He looked at her confused. "How so?"

"It's relatively easy to kidnap an unsuspecting muggle, but whoever did this kidnapped a fully trained witch. And he probably knew she was a witch too." She paused. "Harry," Hermione said slowly. "Do you think that they're all muggle-born? I mean, not just Lauryn, but Katherine, Tracy, Meagan and Felicia too?"

He put Lauryn's broom down slowly. "I don't know... Couldn't it just be coincidence? I mean, yes Lauryn is a witch. But there was no way we could have known that because she didn't go to Hogwarts. She's from the States. But surely these other four women can't all be from other countries."

"They don't have to be. Think about it, Harry. There are so many people in England. So many witches and wizards. Contrary to popular belief we _don't_ know all of them. Think about all the people we know that are our age at the Ministry. We know most of them from Hogwarts. But those others we had never met before, they are still witches and wizards, regardless of the fact that they didn't go to Hogwarts." She shook her head darkly. "The Ministry misses a large part of the magical community choosing to ignore those without a formal education. Plenty of magical parents home school their children. And I'm sure a fair amount of muggle parents refuse to send their magical children away because they are frightened or don't want to believe. There are probably some self-taught muggle-borns too, now that I think about it."

Harry considered her for a moment. "Well, I don't doubt you on that. The muggle-born thing is certainly something we need to look into. But even if they are all muggle-born that doesn't tell us anything vital. Like where they are, whether they're still alive, or who took them away."

"But it's a start. Maybe it'll explain why they were kidnapped in the first place." She pressed her fingertips to her temples and closed her eyes. "Can I have those reports?" she asked after several long moments.

"Sure." Harry reached inside his cloak and produced the reports. He handed them to her. She took them without looking at him. Her eyes were far away. "What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"I have to find out if these women really _are_ all muggle-born. I know this is important, I can feel it... It shouldn't be too hard. I'll find out how long they've been in London and where they're originally from... Then I'll check all the wizarding schools. If they ever exhibited any sort of magical power they were sent a letter from a school at some point in time. The schools should have a record of all the children they reached out to, regardless if the child eventually attended or not... I know there has to be a database of magical schools somewhere. I'll find it and get back to you. In the meantime," she said tucking the folder away carefully. "I want you to keep an eye on that Ministry breach. That's still very, _very_ important. But don't mention anything we learned today to anyone else. I can't help but think these two events are some how related and I don't want to jeopardize anything."

"Hermione?" Harry interrupted.

She finally looked at Harry to see him smiling at her. It was a proud, almost smug smile. "What?" Hermione asked raising an eyebrow.

"Acer is so fired. You're too good at this."

* * *

Patience friends :)

If you like, leave a review!


	12. The Archiver

**Disclaimer: Nothing of JK's is mine. Obviously.**

Author's Note:

I know. It has been forever and a day. But I got a review out of the blue a couple days ago and it really put the fire under my butt to get something out. So I still stand by what I said; I WILL finish this story. Even if it takes another two years (but hopefully it won't). Thank you to everyone who has been reading my story. It's amazing to me that anybody is still interested in it. You guys are awesome.

Happy reading,

Mikey

* * *

Hermione could not get to work fast enough. Not only was this exactly the type of excitement and challenge she had been waiting for, but she also felt deeply attached to these women for reasons unknown to her. She wanted nothing more than their rescue and she was fully prepared to do whatever it would take for their safe return. Upon re-entering the Ministry she went immediately to her temporary office, brushing past Harry without a word. The door closed behind her on its own accord as she sat down gingerly behind the desk. She paused just long enough to take one long, deep breath. The first thing to take care of was the victims' magical status. She enlarged her briefcase with a tap from her wand and extracted the case files. She scanned several documents until she found what she was looking for. Taking a spare bit of parchment and quill from Acer's desk, she hastily scribbled down four four-digit numbers and got up.

Swiftly, Hermione made her way through the labyrinth of cubicles and was jabbing the button for the lift before she had come to a complete stop. The lift seemed to be moving slower than usual in her anxiousness. Hermione tapped her foot impatiently while she waited. When the grates slid open she was on before anyone could step off. Ignoring the glares she was receiving she snaked her arm through several people to press the button for the first floor. With superhuman effort she managed to stop her foot tapping as she waited. But when the lift reached the top floor she all but propelled herself off, nearly crushing a timid looking witch in front of her. Hermione called a hurried apology over her shoulder as she turned the corner. She mentally chided herself. Her manners weren't normally so boorish but she didn't have the time nor patience for pleasantries at the moment.

She vaguely remembered back in her office that there was a classified archive somewhere on the top floor. What she couldn't remember was ever being told its exact location, or how to get in once she found it. So instead of wandering around aimlessly, she decided to get the assistance, rather the authority, that she needed. She moved purposely down the hall and barely knocked before grabbing the handles of the large elegant doors that lead to the Minister's office. She smiled to find the doors unlocked and Kingsley Shacklebolt working diligently behind his enormous desk. He looked up at her in surprise.

"Why, hello Ms. Granger."

Hermione nodded amiably. "Hello Minister." She looked around his desk. There were several neat stacks of paper piled on it. "You appear to be busy, so I'll get straight to the point. I need to get into the archives."

Kingsley regarded her for a moment before returning to his work. "I wasn't aware there were archives in this building that you _haven't_ been in," he said jokingly, in his deep calming voice.

"Only the ones hidden somewhere on this floor," Hermione said smiling sweetly.

He put his quill down as his dark eyebrows went up. "Well... I'm only _slightly_ surprised that you know about the _classified_ archives. However, Hermione, there are a large amount of procedures we must go through before I can let you in there."

Hermione did not looked fazed. "Like what?"

"You need to submit a proposal summarizing your research, then after we have reviewed your case there are security checks like you wouldn't believe. If all of that's approved, then there is still the matter of debriefing and procedures. It may be several days before you can conduct any research at all."

She brushed at a piece of non-existent lint on her shoulder and gave him a bored look. "Well, I don't have several days, Kingsley. I have right now. I need you to let me in the archives."

"Right now?" Kingsley asked incredulously. "I can't just _let _you in."

"Yes, you can."

Kingsley locked eyes with her and said, "Hermione."

She looked defiantly back at him. "_Kingsley?_"

They stared at each other for several moments until Hermione raised her hand and tapped the imaginary wristwatch there. Kingsley rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine, Hermione... Fine." He got up and unlocked a drawer of one of the many filing cabinets in the room. He removed a small business card-sized piece of paper and touched the tip of his wand to it, mumbling something under his breath. "Here," he said, finally turning back to her. "Follow the instructions on this very carefully."

"Thank you," Hermione said placing it in her pocket without looking at it. She tried and failed not to look smug, she couldn't help it. Kingsley crossed his arms and shook his head as he watched her.

"You, _and _Harry_,_ for that matter, are absolutely ridiculous. How is it that you _always_ manage to get someone to break the rules for you?"

Hermione chuckled. "Years and years of practice."

He smiled despite himself. "I'm curious to know exactly what you're looking for."

"I promise you it's nothing extreme. Just fact checking for a case."

Kingsley looked skeptical. He opened his mouth, but then seemed to change his mind. Instead he sat back down behind his desk. "It's probably best I don't know what you're up to. The less I know, the less I can be held accountable for," he said looking at her knowingly.

"Fair enough, Minister," she said smirking. She closed the doors behind her as she left.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. That was easier than she imagined. She had expected to have to do a lot more smooth talking before she got her way. She mentally patted herself on her back before refocusing on the task at hand. She turned the paper Kingsley gave her over in her hands. She looked briefly up and down the hallway and then began to examine it. She read:

_Wash your hands. Tell yourself you know what you're looking for._

Hermione screwed up her eyebrows. She didn't know what to do with that. She continued to study the card. Underneath the writing there were four identical rectangles, the long sides vertical. In the third from the left there was a circle. Hermione stared at this for some time. She had no idea what this meant. She looked momentarily at the door behind her and was tempted to go back in and make Kingsley explain things to her. But she thought better of it. She figured this was one of those things she had to figure out for herself. She cursed under her breath. Why everything in the magical world had to be a riddle was beyond her. She referenced the paper again. _Wash your hands._ She didn't know what this had to do with anything either but she could at least do that much. Kingsley and his undersecretaries each had a private restroom in their massive offices so she knew that the lavatory at the far end of the hall went largely unused. She decided to take advantage of this. It was probably best that she removed herself from the hallway regardless, lest she attract unwanted attention.

Hermione opened the door labeled "Witches" cautiously. Inside, the lavatory was pristine and perfect, much like everything on the top floor. Beautiful white marble floors and everything with golden fixtures. There were four stalls and in front of each a marble sink with a large, immaculate mirror behind it. Hermione rolled her eyes. She had never been a fan of extravagance. She walked immediately to the first sink and propped the instructions up against the mirror. She figured she might as well start with the obvious, so she turned on the faucet. She rubbed her hands together under the cool water thinking to herself for a few moments. Nothing happened. She tried again, adding some soap to the mix this time. She waited several heartbeats. Still nothing. Hermione hastily dried her hands on her clothes and perused the instructions again. She stared at the rectangles for a long moment and then took a few steps back from the sink. Now that she was able to see the entire room she saw it. Four sinks. Four large mirrors. Four large, _rectangular_ mirrors. Hermione's eyes grew wide and she rushed back to the sink picking up the card. She held it up in front of her then looked at the mirrors, then back at the card. The circle was in the third rectangle. Hermione moved to stand in front of the third sink and washed her hands again. She shut her eyes tight in concentration thinking "_I know what I'm looking for_," and scrubbed harder, but to no avail. Hermione let out a frustrated growl and turned off the tap angrily. She was sure that would have worked. She placed both hands on the sides of the sink and looked at herself in the mirror.

"This is stupid," she muttered to herself. She studied the wrinkles over her nose and the lines in her forehead until they disappeared.

Then Hermione looked at herself curiously in the mirror. She tilted her head to one side, then the other. She looked at the door behind her and locked it. She applied a muffliato charm to the room then turned back to her reflection. She stared at herself curiously. "I... I know what I'm looking for."

Her reflection scoffed. "Do you?"

Hermione bit back a yelp of surprise. Somethings in the magical world would never fail to catch her off guard. "Um... yes," she replied.

Mirror-Hermione reached out her hand. "Give it here then."

"Give _what_ here?" she asked puzzled.

"Merlin, Hermione. The card, obviously. Hand it to me."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at herself. "Hmm... I really am insufferable." Her reflection gave her a familiar smile: amused, with just a hint of smugness. Hermione stretched the card bearing hand towards the mirror. She had expected the card to be pressed up against the glass, but instead her hand went steadily through the seemingly solid mirror and into the realm of Mirror-Hermione. The real Hermione gasped as the double put one hand around her wrist and took the paper from her with the other. She examined it for a moment and then looked up at her.

"Everything checks out," Mirror-Hermione said. Then without further warning, she yanked Hermione's arm, pulling her through the mirror.

Instead of landing in a bathroom identical to the one she had been standing in, she was now inside of an enormous room.

In the middle of the space were three marble-topped tables with golden clawed legs. On each table was a single candle hovering over the surface. The flame danced back and forth on its burning wick, but the wax did not drip. Hermione gaped as she set her briefcase down on one of the tables and looked around. The place was filled to bursting with documents of ever sort. There seemed to be millions of books, scrolls and files, each packed tightly into bookcases, shelves, cabinets, crates and boxes that stretched up high to the vaulted ceiling. The amount of information in the room was overwhelming.

Hermione scanned the titles and labels of the nearest tomes and folders. Her stomach sank. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the order at all. Marriage records, financial institutions, criminal reports, missing peoples, legislations, licenses, birth records, _everything_, for every year and place, all shuffled and mixed together in a way so random that it was surely ordered that way on purpose. She took a step back, inhaling deeply as she did so. She was not defeated yet. She was a witch after all.

"_Accio_ Hogwarts prospective student registry," she said determinedly. But that did her no good. A page didn't so much as turn in the entire room. She had to admit, she would have been disappointed had it worked. It wouldn't do well to have important information obtainable by a simple fourth-year level summoning spell. Although she was pleased to find that the Ministry finally seemed to have some security measures in place she could still feel something like panic raising in her chest. That meant she would have to get what she needed the muggle way. She randomly selected a volume from a shelf. Just skimming through she saw that it was an effort in futility. It held information on selected Ministry employees appointed in June of every third leap year, divorce records from the years 1941-1943 of Port Moresby, New Guinea, and magical charitable organizations of the last 10 years starting with the letters "Mi" and "Wr." Hermione forced the bound records back into its tight space on the shelf and sighed. If every other book was organized in such a nonsensical fashion there was no earthly way she would be able to search through these archives and find what she was looking for. It could take months, maybe even years to gather the information if she had to systematically comb through the archives for what she needed. She needed help. Lives were at stake. Hermione went to rake her hands through her hair when she noticed she was still holding on to the card. She was about to examine it again, hoping to glean some new perspective on her situation when she froze, her hands still on her head. Her heart began to hammer violently against her ribcage when she felt an unfamiliar pressure, although she knew instinctively what it was. There wasn't a sane witch or wizard alive that could mistake the feel of a wand tip pressed against the back of their neck.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing here?" A voice said behind her.

Hermione's eyebrow arched on its own accord. It was the voice of an old man. He seemed feeble and crotchety. She could have laughed but she didn't. Old age was no indication that he was not a threat. Hermione kept her wits about her. There was no way she could reach for her wand without getting blasted away. So she responded casually, although she was anything but. "I have the expressed permission of the Minister to be here... Can you say the say same?"

"Why, of course I can. I'm the Archiver. I–" He stopped, snatching the card from her still raised hand. There was a brief pause while he examined it and then yelled at the top of his lungs.

Hermione couldn't help but jump. His wand was still pressed into the back of her neck. "What?" she yelled back cringing.

He lowered his wand and bellowed. "Why the devil didn't you summon me straightaway? I could have killed you, you silly girl!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. If there was anything Hermione absolutely hated being called it was "silly girl." Worse than "mudblood" which was a derogatory word for a much larger group, "silly girl" was an insult that seemed to speak directly to her, mocking her age, gender, and intelligence. Three things she had always been very proud of. Ignoring any possible danger she turned around bridled. "Summon you? I don't even know who you–" She cut herself short now that she could finally see the man. He was, as she had guessed extremely old. Ancient even. He wore brilliant turquoise robes with shiny gold stars that twinkled periodically. His pale blue eyes were magnified several times over by thick eye glasses and they looked absolutely livid. His skin fit his body like a loose garment, hanging awkwardly and in strange places. And underneath his skin, you could see vivid outlines of nearly all his thin bones. He appeared as if one good shake would collapse him completely.

The Archiver stomped his feet, regaining her attention. "The card! Why didn't you summon me with the _card_?" he yelled as he shoved it in Hermione's face.

She leaned back so she could read it. A single eyebrow rose. The rectangles were gone and the writing had changed. It now read, _The Archiver _on one side, and _Turn Three Times _on the other.

"Hmm... I hadn't bothered to look at it again."

"Well, isn't that always the way..." The Archiver mumbled. He took a deep breath and studied her. "You weren't actually trying to find something in here by _yourself,_ were you?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "I was... " she said slowly. "I just had no idea it would be this difficult to locate some very basic information. There seems to be no logical order at all."

"Why of course there is. It's a very sophisticated system. I devised it, well, _reorganized_ it, myself. Years and years ago, before you were even thought of. Everything is where it should be. It all makes sense up here." He touched his index finger to his temple. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

Hermione chose to ignore his quip and asked, "How did you ever decide on an order? It seems so random..."

"It is random. But then, it is not. I change the order of these archives every day, yet I know exactly where everything is," he said running a thin hand over the spine of a book.

She looked around the room in awe. "_Every_ day? That's amazing!" she said appreciatively.

The Archiver shuffled his feet a bit. He seemed to hear the sincerity in Hermione's words because he looked down on the floor and then up at her some what shyly and hurrumphed. "So what is it that you need help finding?"

Hermione smiled and dug into her pocket procuring a list. "I need the registry of Hogwarts prospective students," she said slowly while she scanned the parchment, "for the years 1979 and 1981 through 1983."

He repeated the numbers to himself once under his breath before taking off at a speed very surprising for his age. There was no hesitation in his step as he walked to the other side of the room, rolling with him a tall ladder. In swift movements he was up the rungs and grasping a large volume from the shelf. Upon removing the book he held it out at arm's length (Hermione was amazed that he could manage this at all) and let it drop from his sure fingers. She expected to hear a mighty thud as the book hit the floor but there was none. Hermione watched as the book floated casually to the table where she had laid her things. When she turned around the Archiver was on the opposite side of the room securing the lid on a box, a thick file of papers already floating in her direction.

Moments later Hermione was sitting at the table going through the information the Archiver had produced for her. And as she had expected, each one of the women were muggle-borns that had been offered admission to Hogwarts, but their parents had declined. She was not surprised. However this did confirm a theory she had, until this moment, not wanted to consider. The disappearances of these women and the person spying on her had to be the same, if not related. It was just too big of a coincidence that muggle-born women around her age would disappear the same time that she was being watched. But this new information got her no where. She was no closer to discovering who was responsible than she had been before and she had no idea where to go next. She sighed and picked up her materials as she got up. As she walked through the maze of information she noticed a stack of folders sitting haphazardly on a rolling cart. The Archiver appeared out of no where, catching Hermione off guard.

"Finished?" he asked.

Hermione jumped. "Yes, here." She handed the stack to him. "Thank you." He gave her a curt nod and made to walk away when she spoke again.

"Not that anything seems to have a sensible home in here," she said walking to the cart she had noticed before, "but these seem to be particularly out of place... Why is that?"

"Those need to be re-shelved or put away."

She raised an eyebrow. "How often do you usually have people in here?"

"Not very often at all. Only a few people know of the place to come find it and even fewer actually have the clearance to use it."

"Interesting... Do you mind?" she asked motioning to the stacks of paper.

He shrugged. "You're already here."

Hermione unrolled one of the parchments laying at random on the cart. It was a list of suspected Death Eaters and conspirators that were never convicted. Her eyes narrowed as she read the names. Some names she recognized and was surprised to see, others she had never heard of. There were a few that looked familiar, but she couldn't be sure if she had ever seen or heard of them. Next to each name was what information they had on the suspect. Spouse's name, place and date of birth, profession, and their most recent home address, if known at all. She wondered who would have been interested in this information. It had been over seven years since Voldemort's defeat and there was hardly anybody worried about Death Eater activity anymore. If there was any sort of investigation going on Hermione knew that Harry would have been at the head of it, and that he would have also included her. She found it very odd that someone was casually digging this information up.

"Are you always in here?" she called out.

"I keep certain hours, but yes," the Archiver returned from behind several rows of shelves.

"Then you must have seen whoever it was that was going through these," she pressed.

"Yes. But I'm not at liberty to discuss who comes and goes in here."

"Oh, really? And why is that?"

"Would you be comfortable with me discussing your business with just anyone who asked about it?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "No. Not just anyone."

"Exactly. Of course, if you could provide justification for your inquiry and go through proper channels I'd be happy to help you."

"I can't imagine the 'proper channels' are too convenient," Hermione said under her breath.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't worry. I have more important things to focus on at the moment anyway. I should be leaving now." Hermione looked around the room and paused. "How exactly _do_ I leave anyway?"

"The card," she heard him mumble somewhere in the distance.

"Oh, right," she said, digging again in her pocket. She read the card again. The script had changed to "_Did you find what you were looking for?_" Hermione scoffed to herself. "Yes, that and several other questions that need to be answered... But how do I get-"

But she never finished her sentence because she found herself falling head first out of the third mirror in the bathroom on the top floor. "_Impedimenta_!" she gasped just in time as she fell. She stopped mid-air before she cracked her skull on the marble floor. "That can not be the proper way to exit," she mumbled as righted herself.

* * *

"Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you," Harry said holding up a folded piece of parchment when Hermione rounded the corner.

Harry fell into step with her and followed her back to her office. She placed her things on her desk and took a deep breath before addressing him. "Sorry, Harry. I've been getting some research done. What's that?" she asked, motioning to the paper in his hand.

"It's from Draco. I didn't open it," he said placing it on the desk. "But what did you come up with?"

"Nothing that I hadn't already guessed. The women are all muggleborn witches. Somebody has it out for us," she said almost to herself, unfolding the message. She clapped a hand to her forehead. "Oh flog me," she said. "Dinner with Eridanus. I completely forgot!"

"Eridanus?"

"Draco's cousin. Long story," she added before he could ask. "Wait a moment, he says Eridanus had to cancel. Wonderful, I would have felt dreadful knowing I stood them up." She looked at the clock on the wall. It was a quarter til ten. No sense rushing home at this point; she was already late. She bit her lip thinking as a thought suddenly occurred to her. "Hey, Harry," she said.

"Yes?"

"Have you thought about our other situation?" He looked at her nonplussed. "_My_ situation?" she clarified.

"No. I haven't come up with anything new..." Harry said slowly.

"So you haven't you put two and two together yet? Haven't you considered the fact that whoever is after these muggleborn women is probably after-"

"Hermione, please. Let's not jump to that."

"Let's not jump to what, Harry? To the logical conclusion? These are related, I feel it Harry," she said earnestly. "Whoever abducted these women is after me too. They made sure that I was muggleborn by digging up dirt on me and it's only a matter of time before they come after me too."

"You don't know that," Harry said, shaking his head slightly more like he was trying to convince himself rather than Hermione.

She gave him a bored stare.

Harry put his face in hands, looking tortured. "What do you want me to do Hermione? I don't know who is doing this. I don't know _why_ they're doing this. And more importantly, I don't know how to stop them from coming after you too."

She looked at him for a long time, not really seeing him. Someone probably _was_ coming after her. But was that really a _bad_ thing? If they had no other leads, no other way of finding this person, wouldn't it be easier to have this person come to them? Possibly at a place of their own choosing, where they had the advantage? It only made sense. Hermione took a deep breath, her mind made up. She got up off the edge of her desk where she had been perched and sat down next to Harry. She thought carefully about what she was going to say and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry..." She waited until he looked up at her to continue. "The last thing I want to do is _stop_ this person from coming after me."

That got his attention. It took approximately two seconds for Harry to blow up, as she knew he would. "Absolutely not!" he yelled jumping up from his seat. Hermione saw the few late-working Aurors peeking over their tiny cubicles and cast a silencing charm on the room.

"Do calm down, Harry. You're being ridiculous."

"_I'm being ridiculous?_" he bellowed. "Y-you're being ridiculous! You're the one that's thinking up some half-assed scheme using yourself as bait!"

"It's not _half-assed._ What a crude term," she added. "I haven't formulated a plan yet, but I know that taking advantage of the situation will help us find these women. We have to use whatever methods we have."

"They could already be dead. Why would I risk your life in addition to theirs?"

"You don't believe that they're dead Harry," she said quietly.

"No, I don't," he sighed. "If they were I believe we would have had more to go off. Death is easier to trace."

"So then we should go ahead with the plan."

"What plan? Throwing you to this monster and hoping we catch him in the act is _not_ a plan. It's reckless and it's stupid. You're no help to anyone if you disappear as well."

"But what other options do we have, Harry? If you have any ideas, please. Enlighten me."

Harry responded with an aggravated growl. He shoved his hands in his hair.

"That's what I thought," Hermione said smugly, opening a folder to re-read some reports.

"If you think for one second that I've agreed to purposefully putting your life in danger, you are sorely mistaken."

"Harry-"

"Drop it, Hermione," Harry said with a tone of finality she couldn't ignore. "It's late. I'm going home to my wife," he said slowly. "and my son. And you..." He shook his head and smiled humorlessly. "I can't believe that you would even consider this. Maybe a few months ago I wouldn't have been surprised. But now? Think about what it would do to him, Hermione. It's terribly selfish of you." He looked at her meaningfully. She didn't need for him to say the name to know exactly who he was talking about. She stared at him as the truth of his words sunk in. "Go home, Hermione. Now. We'll talk about what weare _all_ going to do next tomorrow." He started to leave but then turned around. He leaned over and placed a kiss on the top of her head. Hermione closed her eyes at his touch. "Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Harry," she said softly. He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze and walked out.

Hermione let out a low whistle when the door closed. She had by no means given up on her idea, in fact she fully intended on developing it further before she saw him again tomorrow. But she did have to worry about something she had until this time tried painstakingly to keep out of her work-related decisions. Draco would most definitely have a problem with whatever put her in danger, and she knew he was going to fight her, as well as anybody else who went along with it, on the issue. But her mind was made up. If Harry had stuck around long enough she would have argued that he had put his life in danger several times to save others, and would do it again. Hermione felt that whatever sacrifice Harry was allowed to make she could make also. Lives, other than her own, were at stake. As she gathered up her things she wondered who she could enlist for help if (and most likely when) Harry refused. She allowed herself a small smile, glad that she was the new second, if only temporarily. Her new position came with its perks. She could organize a team confidentially, if need be, and there really wasn't much Harry could do to stop her. Not that this was a new occurrence.

"No one stops Hermione Granger from doing anything," she said to the empty room before leaving.

* * *

Draco cast another heating spell on the spaghetti and garlic bread as he sat at the table alone. He looked at the candles moodily as their flames danced, casting shadows on the table. He figured he would make a romantic dinner out of the evening since Eridanus had canceled but now he was starting to feel stupid for it. Hermione was way past late and she hadn't even bothered to respond to the owl he sent her. He picked up his plate and glass of wine, deciding to eat his solitary meal in front of the television when he heard a knock, rather, several rapid knocks, on the door.

"Draco?" he heard Eridanus call before the knocking continued. Draco quickly crossed the living room to the foyer, placing his dinner on the coffee table. He had his wand raised when he opened the door.

"Eridanus?" Draco said as the person in question squeezed through the doorway past him, not waiting to be invited in. He carried something lumpy over his shoulder but Draco couldn't tell what since it was covered in a spare robe. He glanced at Eridanus' retreating figure once more before peering out the door, looking for some sign of danger. When he found none he closed it sharply, locking it both the muggle and magical way for reasons he couldn't explain to himself. "Eridanus, what the hell is going on? Why were you beating on my door like a bloody mad m-?"

Draco's rant came up short when he finally got a good look at Eridanus. His expression was calm but the muscles in his neck looked strained as he gently lowered his load on to the sofa. He removed the robes and replaced it with the blanket Hermione kept in a basket under the coffee table. Draco realized that the lumpy something was Pyxis, fast asleep wrapped in a child-sized bathrobe, as if he had plucked her straight from the bath and come here.

"Eridanus..." Draco said quietly. Eridanus looked away from his daughter reluctantly and up at Draco. He said nothing for several moments then sighed.

"Someone tripped the Apparation alarm on my home while we were away. I could feel that the wards had been tested before the car was even in the drive. Pyxis and I were coming back from her dance lessons... Jazz and tap," he added smiling at his daughter's sleeping form. "Anyway, I've charmed my Foe Glass to keep a memory of whoever appears in it. It was a wizard, but I didn't recognize his face." He frowned at this. "I keep a pretty steady watch on my Foe Glass and I haven't had so much as an angry postman approach my house for the time that I've lived there. Either way someone wishing harm on me or my daughter came to call and I will not risk her being in danger by staying there."

Draco nodded slowly. "Where are you going? To France?"

"I'm not running," Eridanus said quietly. "Quite the opposite. I'm going to go look for him. Whoever he is. I can't imagine that I've made any new enemies as of late, so I'll start with the old ones. Who knows, I may not have to search very hard at all. I doubt very highly that me not being home will have deterred him from pursuing me further. I'll find out if my name has been in the streets. See who from the old crowd is still prowling around."

Draco glanced at the clock on the wall. "It's been hours since you were supposed to arrive for dinner. This whole time you were...?"

"Emptying my house... and erasing all evidence of me or Pyxis having been there."

"When are you leaving?"

"Almost immediately," he answered.

Draco nodded. He didn't need too much more detail to understand Eridanus' urgency. From what Draco knew of Eridanus' past Pyxis shouldn't be seen by any old "colleagues," not when she was thought to be dead. He looked at Pyxis for a long moment.

"And you're leaving Pyxis here." It wasn't a question.

"I don't have anybody else that I can trust her with Draco," Eridanus said just above a whisper, his eyes pleading.

Draco swallowed and looked at the little girl nervously. "How long will you be gone?"

"As long as it takes to find him. Or until I'm positive that her life isn't in any danger. Whichever comes first." He reached inside his pocket and produced two miniature pieces of furniture. "All of Pyxis' belongings are in here," he said placing a miniature chest drawers and what appeared to be a tiny wooden toy chest on the coffee table. "If there's anything else she needs, she has money. I've emptied everything I have into her Gringotts account."

"Is that really necessary?" Draco asked alarmed.

"I'm just taking precautions," Eridanus said glancing at the time distracted. "I need to be leaving. Please apologize to Hermione for me. I know that this extremely unfair of me, leaving my child with you, and with absolutely no notice. I'll never be able to repay either of you for this." He bent down, smoothing back Pyxis' dark hair and kissing her forehead. He turned to Draco and clasped his hand in both of his. "I'll be in touch as soon as it safe. Thank you, Draco."

He was out of the door before Draco could form a response.

"Is Daddy gone?" whispered a tiny voice.

Draco jumped. He turned to look at Pyxis but her eyes were still closed, her breathing slow and rhythmic. He knelt beside her and whispered back, unsure that he had heard her. "Yes."

Her eyes opened immediately. She blinked twice before looking up at Draco. Blue stared into gray. Draco's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How long have you been awake little one?"

She sat up and smiled sadly, her cheeks cream and roses. "A while... Before we left Daddy said that he was going to have to go away for a while and that I had to stay with you. He got really sad when he told me." Her nose wrinkled at the thought. "It's hard for Daddy to say bye. So I went to sleep. But he'll be happy when he comes back," she said matter-of-factly. She played with the fluffy sleeve of her robes. "Can I change, Uncle Draco?"

Draco started a little at this. He had never imagined that he would ever be addressed as such. It was strange, though much to his surprise, not unpleasant. He got up picking up her tiny chests, and said, "Sure. Follow me." He made his way to Harry's old room and placed the chests on the floor against the wall. He flicked his wand and they enlarged to their original size. Pyxis clapped excitedly as she recognized her belongings and then rushed forward tugging on the top drawer.

"Papa puts my pajamas in the top drawer," she said conversationally. "Which _I _always thought was silly. I asked Daddy one day, I said 'Daddy, why not put the pajamas on the _bottom_, since it's the last thing I'll put on for the day?' He just shook his head, but it makes sense doesn't it, Uncle Draco?"

He couldn't help but smile. "It makes perfect sense, Pyxis." She nodded in agreement as she stood on tip-toe, fishing clothes from a drawer. Draco watched as she all but emptied it on to the floor looking for the pajamas she wanted. She raised a mismatched top and bottom in the air smiling widely to herself.

"Got it!" she said excitedly. She started to undo the knot around her waist and Draco immediately turned around. "I'll be outside," he said practically running from the room.

She bounced out of Harry's old room moments later and Draco couldn't suppress his laughter at her appearance. The top she wore was striped purple and pink with a glittering unicorn prancing around her belly. On her lower half she wore green ankle length cotton pants with little hopping frogs. Her pigtails were now lopsided from forcing her head through the opening of her shirt. She looked absolutely comical, and yet absolutely serene. She grabbed Draco's hand in the hallway and swung it, looking up at him.

"What's for dinner, Uncle Draco?"

* * *

Hermione didn't announce herself as she entered her flat. She was sure that Draco was up waiting for her anyway. But as she went through the post the only greeting she got was from Crookshanks, who looked particularly unhappy.

"What's wrong darling?" she cooed. "Was Draco being cross with you?" At that moment she heard Draco's light laugh from the kitchen. She found it odd that he was finding anything humorous when he should have been mad at her. She was about to ask him what was so funny when she heard another voice.

"I can't ever keep the meatballs on the fork," a little voice said. "And this fork is much too big. Don't you have a smaller one? One for my size?" Hermione put Crookshanks back on the floor before going through the living room to the kitchen.

"Here, let me see," Draco was saying. He took the fork from the owner of the small voice and pointed his wand at it. "_Reducio_... Is that better?" he asked, handing the fork back to the child. Hermione gaped at the child. She was sure that she had never seen the black-haired, ivory-skinned little girl before but she seemed oddly familiar. She cleared her throat to announce herself. The little girl waved both hands at her and smiled, the hand with the fork in it sending spaghetti sauce across the table. Draco turned around in his seat, a relieved expression coming over his face. He got up to greet her.

"Hey, you're late," he said casually embracing her.

"Draco, who is-"

He cut her off, but instead of speaking to her he addressed the little girl. "Pyxis, this is your Aunt Hermione. Aunt Hermione, Pyxis."

Hermione's eyes widened considerably at this but she recovered quickly. "Hello, sweetheart. How are you?"

"Great! Me and Uncle Draco are having spaghetti! Want some?" she asked holding up her fork towards her.

Hermione smiled. "Maybe in a little while. Me and _Uncle Draco_ are going to have a chat in the other room, okay?" Pyxis nodded as Hermione grasped Draco very tightly around the top of his arm and steered him out of the kitchen.

"Who is that little girl in her pjs in our kitchen?" she whispered tersely.

"That is Eridanus' daughter."

"Daughter? You never mentioned a daughter."

Draco shrugged. "Must have slipped my mind."

"And where is Eridanus?" Hermione said bristling.

"He had to.. leave town. We're going to be taking care of her for a while. It's a long story."

"That makes two long stories I've yet to hear from you," she mumbled under her breath.

Draco rolled his eyes uncharacteristically. He was picking up her habits. "Look woman, I'll tell you everything when she's in bed. But it is okay that I took her in?" he asked looking slightly worried. "I mean, this is your place after all. I really don't have any right-"

"Of course, it's all right!" she whispered taken aback. "You know this place is every bit yours as much as it is mine. And I didn't mean to make her sound unwelcome. What ever she needs is fine. She's family after all." Draco smiled at this. The concept of family didn't seem so foreign or out of reach when Hermione was in the picture. He bent to kiss her but pulled back when he noticed she was worrying her lip.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

"Who's going to look after her? I'm so busy with work, I'll hardly be home."

"I could easily work from home. It's not a problem."

Hermione looked at him skeptically. "You're going to look after a child? A little girl?"

"Are you implying that I can't?" he asked his eyes narrowing.

She laughed quietly. "You don't know the first thing about little girls. I'm sure of that much."

Draco ran a hand through his hair. "It couldn't possibly be that difficult," he drawled.

"You say that now," Hermione scoffed.

"Are you two telling secrets? Because I can still hear everything you're saying!" they heard Pyxis yell from the kitchen.

* * *

**A/N: **Hopefully I haven't lost my ability to write. LOL

Let me know what you think in a review!


	13. Miniature Owls

**Disclaimer: **All things Harry Potter belong to JKR.

Author's Note:

Hey everyone! Here's another update. I was really having trouble writing this chapter. There are a million directions I could go with it and I desperately want the plot to progress on a sensible timeline. I know what's going to happen next and how the story will eventually come to a close but it's the getting there that's proven difficult. Have patience with me. Read and please leave a review, they really help the writing process.

Mikey

S/N: There is a sexually explicit scene in this chapter. If it's not your style, it begins and ends with a** bold sentence **so you can skip it. If a little raunchiness _is_ your thing, I hope you enjoy it :)

And please excuse any typos. I've gone cross eyed re-reading this chapter so many times.

* * *

Hermione closed her bedroom door and slowly turned around. She had just tucked in Pyxis after reading her a bedtime story. She was surprised at how readily Pyxis had accepted and adjusted to the situation. She was unquestionably relaxed, as if their new living arrangement was already a part of her regular routine. Hermione sat next to her on the bed while she read and Pyxis listened intently. Halfway through the book, Pyxis even rested her head on Hermione's shoulder so that she could read along. Hermione was surprised. She was unsure of how she would feel with Pyxis here initially, but she found that the little girl's presence was comforting and she was not so opposed to having a child around as she thought. Pyxis's arrival was a welcome distraction from Hermione's other worries. Pyxis was innocent and carefree. She was unaware of all the harsh realities of life and her only concern at the time was with being happy. Hermione smiled sadly. She so missed that childlike mentality. She shook her head and stepped further into the room.

Draco was leaning forward on the edge of their bed, elbows on his knees and fingers laced together. His eyebrows were creased with worry and his hair looked as if he had repeatedly run his fingers through it. As Hermione watched him, all her adult fears and concerns came rushing back. Draco looked up from the floor as she stopped a few feet in front of him. Their eyes met and they held each others' gaze for an infinite moment. Then Hermione let out an enormous sigh.

"We have so much to talk about," she quietly.

Draco nodded. "I know."

"I think you should start."

"With what?"

"Pyx-, no Eridanus. Start with him."

"Okay," he said slowly, sitting up straight. "It's like this … Ten years ago Eridanus fell in love with Odette, a muggleborn witch. And you know_ I know_ better than anyone how dangerous that can be," he added with a wink. Hermione rolled her eyes at him to show she wasn't amused and he continued. "But they didn't have it as easy as we do now. They had to keep their relationship completely secret because this was right when the Ministry was rounding up all the muggleborns during our seventh year at Hogwarts. But it was even trickier because Eridanus was a Death Eater himself..." Draco stopped as Hermione took a step back from him. She had the oddest look on her face, as if she was trying very hard to remember something important that she had forgotten. Draco reached out as his hand to her and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Eridanus was a Death Eater?" she asked narrowing her eyes.

"Yes …" Draco said confused. "But you know that was hardly a choice for some people." He tapped his left inner forearm lightly where Hermione knew a faded, but still visible, Dark Mark to be.

Hermione shook her head impatiently. "Never mind that, I know him. And Odette. They killed her. The other Death Eaters killed her. They meant to kill Pyxis too … but they were careless. She survived."

"Yes, but how …"

She put up a hand to stop him as the color drained from his face. "You're kidding me, right?" she said to the ceiling. "This is the strangest thing..." She turned back to Draco, who looked at her puzzled. "What's wrong?"

Draco looked at her disbelievingly. "_What's wrong_? Hermione, you … How could you possibly know … ?"

"I know the whole story. Probably better than you do," Hermione said patiently. "The Death Eaters came for them in the night. Eridanus sent Odette to the baby. To Pyxis," she said, her eyes were far away, as if she was seeing something besides the room they were in. "He begged them not to kill his family. He asked them to kill him instead. But they wouldn't. His friend, he had a friend there. He said it was for his own good." She saw it all again, as vividly as she had seen it in her dreams. Draco just stared as she continued. "And when Eridanus finally went to the room, Odette was on the floor. Lying there m-m-motionless," Hermione choked out. She was surprised to feel tears running freely down her cheeks. She swiped at them and continued. "Eridanus thought Pyxis was dead too. But she was fine … Fine … She looks so much like her," she finally said.

Draco moved toward Hermione slowly, the way you would approach a wounded animal, with extreme caution. He put his hands on her upper arms and spoke calmly, enunciating each word. "You know how Pyxis looks."

"Well I've seen her now but I know how she looked as a baby. She looked just like Odette … Her black hair. Her rosy cheeks. And her eyes. She has the exact same blue eyes as Odette."

Draco's own eyes bulged. He had seen a picture of Odette. Eridanus had shown him one when they first met. But Hermione had never seen Odette in life or in death. Yet Hermione had described her perfectly. "How on earth do you know how Odette looks? How do you know _any_ of this?"

"I've been dreaming about them. Odette and Eridanus. Only I didn't know he was Eridanus at the time …" She regarded him for a moment then said, "You two favor each other, you know. He could be your older brother you look so alike. His hair is a bit darker though." She reached up and ran a hand through his platinum hair.

He closed his eyes as he felt her fingertips on his skin. Even in this tense situation her touch seemed to calm him a bit. He caught her hand and held it in both of his. "How long have you been dreaming about Eridanus, Hermione?"

"Several weeks," she shrugged.

Draco's jaw dropped. "Why are you just now telling me about this?"

"Draco, darling, what difference would it have made?" she said as she took her hand from him and crossed the room. "Last week _you_ didn't even know who Eridanus was, how was I supposed to tell you that I was dreaming about him? Anyway, I think a better question would be by ___why_ have I been dreaming about him."

Draco nodded in agreement. He was silent for a beat then asked, "You're not a Seer, are you?"

Hermione snorted. "Of course not. That's ludicrous."

Draco stifled a laugh. She was clearly offended. "Well, maybe you're no Professor Trelawney, but perhaps you have some Inner Eye sensitivities."

"That's highly unlikely. I've never _S____een_ anything before this. And besides, I'm not seeing the future. I'm seeing the past. And a fat lot of help that's doing anybody," she said callously.

"Do you usually become so abrasive where Seeing is concerned?" Draco asked amused.

Hermione smiled despite herself. "Divination has always been something of a sore spot with me. Harry or Ron could tell you."

"I'll be sure to ask… Ask Harry, that is," he added stiffly.

She ignored his obvious dismal of Ron. "Anyway, let's put all this Seer business on the back burner and discuss more current matters. What was so important that Eridanus had to leave Pyxis with us?"

Draco looked in the little girl's direction, as if he could see her sleeping in the spare room. "Somebody appeared in Eridanus's Foe Glass. It was someone he didn't recognize and he didn't want to risk being caught off guard. So, instead of waiting for him to come again, he went after him."

"Really? You don't think that's a bit excessive?" Hermione said raising an eyebrow. "It might not have been that serious of a threat. He's been hiding successfully this whole time hasn't he? What's changed?"

"Neither of us know. But the fact that something _has_ changed makes his actions perfectly sensible to me," he drawled as he sat down and reclined on the bed. "We Malfoy's have never been known to take threats lightly. And we're inherently paranoid on top of that."

"Still, the whole thing feels a little melodramatic to me. But then again …" She sat down on the bed next to him. "We don't know what could have happened. No one knows what any of our fates will be."

"'I don't believe in fate or destiny … '" Draco recited quietly. "' … I believe in various degrees of hatred, paranoia, and abandonment.'"

Hermione stared at Draco for a long time, a frown forming on her face. Hermione knew Draco's childhood, particularly his teenage years, had been hell. Since they'd been together he hardly let the pain from his past show. She remembered recently suggesting they go back to the Manor and collect some of his things. Draco had freed his house elf upon deciding to stay with her at the flat so Hermione knew that place was also in need of some up keep. But Draco had flatly refused to return. She had tried to discuss his opposition but he wouldn't even entertain the conversation. She couldn't understand why he was so opposed to the idea. But it was moments like this, when he unconsciously let his guard down, that she could see just how deeply he had been effected by his life there. "That is probably the saddest thing I've ever heard," she whispered. "And although I agree with it to an extent, it still hurts me to the core to know that's how you're feeling."

Draco crossed his arms, not looking at her. "The hatred and the paranoia I can deal with. Those things are a part of me. I know they'll never truly go away, but I have them under control. They even work to my advantage from time to time … But abandonment … _loss_, there's no sense to it. The fear of it alone is crippling. I'm not sure I'll ever come to terms with … I don't know how to _deal_ with that type of pain." Hermione put a hand on his shoulder and he finally turned to face her. Hermione could see every unspoken fear in his eyes. And she was sure Draco saw his fears reflected in hers. "I can't …" he trailed off then took a deep breath and started over. "Just … don't ever leave me, Hermione."

Hermione felt new tears prickling in the corners of her eyes. "Draco..." She threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself to him as tightly as she could. "I'll never leave you," she whispered. She buried her face in his neck as tears fell. She felt his arms wrapped around her as she sobbed. He rubbed her back soothingly as he planted gentle kisses in her hair until she finally quieted. He stared at her until she met his gaze then pulled her face to his, pressing his lips lightly to hers. He kissed her tenderly for a long time, just enjoying the feeling of intimacy they seemed to be missing lately. When they parted, Hermione reached up to stroke his cheek and he awarded her with his signature smirk. That made her smile. A genuine smile that reached her warm brown eyes and lit up her entire face. Draco felt his breath catch in his throat. She was so beautiful that sometimes it physically hurt him to look at her. And the feeling was nothing new. He had always found her attractive, ever since he first saw her at Hogwarts. Big teeth, bushy hair and all. But he was forbidden by his family to mingle with muggleborns and her obnoxious, know-it-all ways had made it all too easy to turn that attraction into genuine disgust. But now as he held her in his arms he couldn't have felt differently. He ran a thumb slowly over her full lips, marveling at everything she made him feel. Letting those sensations take over he leaned toward her and kissed her again, a little more firmly than the first time, placing a hand on the small of her back and pulling her closer. Hermione moaned as her lips parted and he deepened the kiss.

Hermione could never think at moments like this. Every thought seemed to come and go as she was wrapped in Draco's embrace. Feeling his hands run over her skin, the warmth of his body next to hers... It was heaven and time seemed to stop. So much so that she had somehow missed both the turning off of the lights and the removal of her clothes. When she regained her sense of self, Draco was placing kisses down the length of her neck and was still fully, and inexcusably, dressed. But now that she was aware of herself, Hermione would see to that. Without saying a word she pushed Draco onto his back and was pulling his shirt over his head before he could object. An eyebrow raised at her unusual aggression but he didn't stop her. In fact, he seemed to like it. He helped her unbutton his pants and she had them off completely in seconds. Hermione paused for a moment to look at him. She ran a hand down the length of his chest while she inspected his magnificent body. His flawlessness never ceased to amaze her and she took an enormous, almost animal-like pride in the fact that he belonged to her and no one else. Not just physically, but emotionally as well, in all the ways one soul could belong to another. She sobered, raking her eyes up his body and back to his. He seemed to be surveying her similarly. He poked her in the navel when their eyes met and she giggled at simple, childlike gesture. "What are you thinking about?" he chuckled softly, grey eyes sparkling in the dark. She leaned over him, dragging her bare breasts along his chest. He felt her nipples harden against his skin and shivered. When her face was inches over his, long brown hair to cascading over his body, she whispered into his ear. "I am so in love with you."

Draco felt his heart swell in his chest and he was glad he didn't wear his emotions on his face. It wasn't that he didn't want Hermione to know how strongly he felt for her, he was sure she knew how completely she had him. He could show her easily how much he loved her. But he just wasn't accustomed to someone feeling so much for him. And it was hard to accept. As much as he wanted, needed to be loved by her, it was still an alien concept. Hewould probably never get used to it. And he thought that was okay. He reached up and brushed her hair over her shoulder so he could look at her properly. "And I with you," he said softly. **He held her gaze as the mood changed from light and sweet to lusty and amorous.** He ran his hands languidly down her neck and along her sides and over her hips. He slipped a hand between her thighs and she parted them to allow him better access. As his fingers played in her wetness she couldn't help but moan.

After a few minutes of torture she whined, "Draco... Please."

He didn't respond, instead he lifted her until she was hovering over his erection and with one swift movement entered her.

Hermione threw her head back and moaned in ecstasy. There was nothing like sharing this feeling with Draco. Everything they felt for each other was magnified by the overwhelming pleasure they experienced when their bodies were connected. For Hermione, it was almost too much to bear. She leaned back, placing her hands on his knees to brace herself while she rode him. Draco increased the pressure on her hips as he met her strokes, soft moan's escaping his lips as he dug into her. When Hermione's legs began to tremble he flipped them over so that he was on top, skillfully remaining inside her. As he continued to move within her, Hermione's need intensified and she wrapped her legs around his waist to take him in further, her hands roaming endlessly over his broad back and shoulders, and her lips whispering his name over and over again as their bodies rose and fell. Hermione gasped and moaned as he penetrated her more fully and his pace increased. She felt her eyes roll to the back of her head and she knew she wasn't far from completion. Draco, so familiar he was with her body, knew too. He tightened his grip on her and teased every bit of her he could reach with his mouth, gently biting and sucking her skin. It wasn't long before he felt her muscles contract around him and her orgasm hit. Her nails dug into his back while her body convulsed and the sensations brought him closer too. He locked his arms around her and thrust into her rapidly until he came crashing after her. He held her to him as waves of pleasure washed over them both. Slowly, when he regained his motor skills, Draco rolled onto his back taking Hermione with him so she was resting on his chest. They laid that way, wrapped in each others arms panting, waiting for their heartbeats to slow and their heads to come down from the clouds.

******Draco wove his fingers through Hermione's and laid their laced hand over his heart between them**. For a long moment neither of them said anything. Occasionally, one would kiss the other on the neck, or stroke a cheek, but their communication remained nonverbal. Finally, moments later, Draco spoke. "You promise?" he said quietly, staring at the ceiling. "No matter what, you'll never leave?"

Hermione placed a kiss on his collar. "No matter what. I promise."

He smiled to himself. "All right. I'll hold you to it," he said yawning. Then he kissed her temple and closed his eyes.

Hermione stared into the darkness. She knew her promise wasn't much. And she knew that he knew it wasn't much either. But in her line of work it was all she had to give him. Her promise. That and every fiber of her being, for as long as she had them to give. She snuggled into him a little closer and let her heavy eyelids close.

"Didn't you have something to tell me?" Draco asked all of a sudden. "It seemed like there was something else on your mind earlier."

Hermione bit her lip in the darkness. Perhaps now wasn't the best time to tell him that she was planning to use herself as bait in an abduction investigation, she thought. "Nothing important. Just mundane work stuff."

"Are you sure?" he asked sleepily.

"Yeah. Everything's fine."

* * *

As Hermione sat at her desk three days later, she realized that Harry had won … For now. She couldn't tell Draco about her "half-assed" plan, not with Pyxis's current involvement in their lives. Pyxis was the sweetest little girl but for two people unaccustomed to living with children she was difficult to adjust to. Draco was having such a hard time getting work done with Pyxis bouncing around, her 8 year-old attention span withstanding all forms of entertainment, that he was forced to put aside his work completely. He notified his superiors that he needed a few days off and his assignment was given to someone else. Hermione on the other hand, absolutely could not afford to be away from her job, not when lives depended on her expertise in particular. So for the time being, her plans to use herself as bait would be put on the back burner and she would think of another option. Hopefully Eridanus would not be gone for much longer, she thought. She brushed her chin with the feather end of her quill while she looked over the information they had already gathered. They had four crime scenes, one half-formed motive for the abductions, and very, very little else. She wished there was a way she could glean more information from what she had. What she really needed, she thought, was something to trace from the sites of the abduction back to the kidnapper. But there was nothing to trace. This wasn't a muggle investigation. There were no fingerprints. No blood. No database with information unique to only one wizard. Hermione could think of only one thing wizards and witches commonly used for identification and that was a wand. However there was no way of tracing a wand to an owner without the actual wand, she thought. Or was there? Did they really need the wand? Wouldn't they just need to know the make up of the wand? Considering no two wands were identical and no two wizard's magic exactly the same … Couldn't the magic _itself_ identify the wizard? But that begged the question, could magic be traced? Did cast spells leave a "fingerprint" like hands do? She had to believe they did. If you could test objects to see whether or not they had been magically tampered with then certainly magic must leave its mark. Was there a chance that residual magic could somehow remember the wand that cast it? If there was they would be that much closer to finding their man. Hermione's mind was reeling.

She knew what she was considering was some seriously advanced magic. There would certainly be a lot of wandlore involved and there were only so many wizards and witches that were knowledgeable in it. In fact, she could only think of one and she wasn't sure if he'd be up to the task. What she was proposing, a way to trace magic, could takes months and months to develop. But she was determined to see it done faster than that. Even if she had to spearhead its creation herself. She gathered her cloak and let the department secretary know she would be out on the field.

Minutes later Hermione was standing outside of Ollivander's in Diagon Alley. She walked inside and it was just as she remembered it as a child. There were boxes and boxes of wands stacked up to the ceiling and the stagnant air seemed to be buzzing with magic. She smiled faintly at the memory.

"Mr. Ollivander?" she called out.

There was a shuffling somewhere in the back of the store, then she heard him approach. He gave her a friendly smile when he saw her.

"Ah, Miss Granger," he said taking her hand as she held it out. "10 and three quarters, vine wood, dragon heartstring core. Still serving you well, I presume?"

"Yes, very well. Thank you." Hermione said smiling.

"Then how can I assist you today, Miss Granger?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could use your expertise on a special... _project,_" she finished.

"_Special_ in what way, my dear?" he asked quizzically.

"Special in the way of top secret procedures with lives depending on difficult, if not completely impossible magic."

Ollivander took a moment to consider this and then nodded. From across the room he flipped the "Open" sign in the window to "Closed" with a silent spell and said to Hermione, "Follow me to the back. We can discuss this further."

Hermione followed Ollivander through the towers of wand boxes, through an impossibly narrow hallway and then through an even narrower doorway. He conjured up a chair for her in front a tired work bench and after moving several tools and wand making materials from his seat, he sat down. He folded his hands in front of him on the work surface and addressed Hermione.

"Now what exactly are you trying to do?"

* * *

"Uncle Draco?"

"Yes, Pyxis."

"I'm soooo _bored_," she told him for the fifth time that hour.

"I'm sorry, Pyxis," he told her again in response. "What would you like to do?"

"I don't know," she sighed.

Draco sighed too. This had been apart of their exchange for the last hour too. He realized he was not the best companion for an eight year old girl but he was really trying. He had sat down with her and her stuffed unicorn at their make-believe tea party. He moved all the furniture in the living room and watched her perform her jazz-tap routine, which he enjoyed more than he expected. He even played dress-up with her, allowing her to attack his face with Hermione's makeup, but only after she pinky promised not to let word of it leave the flat. At this point he was pretty much played out and he didn't know what else he could do for her. What she needed, he thought, was someone her age to play with. He slapped the palm of his hand to his forehead. Of course. "Hey Pyxis. How would you like to make some new friends?"

Draco had to admit he was lucky to know Molly Weasley. There was nothing about children she didn't know or didn't like so when Draco popped up at the Burrow unexpectedly with Pyxis she was delighted. The word "niece" had barely left his mouth before Molly grabbed Pyxis up into a tight hug and started pouring over how adorable she was. She barely waited for the rest of the explanation. She was in front of the fireplace a second later Floo-ing Tonks' mother, Andromeda, and her sons, Bill and George. About twenty minutes passed and three children came tumbling out of the fireplace. The first was Teddy Lupin, Harry's godson. Teddy, like Pyxis was eight. He had sharp, wolf-like eyes set in his kind face and his hair today was a brilliant electric blue. According to Molly, this meant he was excited. Next, dainty Victoire, who didn't so much tumble as float out of the fireplace, appeared. She very politely greeted her grandmother with a kiss to on both cheeks, ever the spitting image of her mother Fleur, except for her hair, which was a fiery strawberry blonde. Victoire was a year younger than Teddy and Pyxis. Last to come out was little Fred II. He came jumping out onto the hearth and immediately ran to give his grandmother a big toddler's wet kiss. Fred II, the son of George and his wife Angelina (formerly Angelina Johnson), was barely four years old. Molly took him in her arms then lovingly rubbed a soot smudge from his caramel brown cheek. Until James' birth, he had been Molly's youngest grandchild and she had spent the best of his four years doting on him at the Burrow.

As they arrived, Pyxis stood slightly behind Draco holding tightly to his arm. Draco was surprised at her shyness. At home she chatted constantly, and very nearly bounced off the walls with energy. But now she seemed to be intimidated. He nudged her forward. "Go on Pyxis. Say hello."

"Hello," she mumbled into his side.

Draco found himself smiling. "Don't be shy, Pyxis. Go make friends." She shook her head reluctantly.

Teddy didn't seemed too concerned with her discomfort. "Wanna play with the gnomes in the yard?" Teddy asked looking around at the other children.

"Alright then," Victoire said in her smooth voice. The two ran off and Fred looked after them wistfully from Molly's arms.

"Wait for us!" he cried wiggling out of his grandmother's embrace. He jumped to Pyxis's side and grabbed her hand, all sense of shyness evading him at his young age. "Come on!" he said tugging her along. Pyxis gave Draco a nervous look, but allowed the little boy to drag her to the backyard.

* * *

"Yes, I see why you would think to come to me..." Ollivander said. "But much of what you are proposing involves spell invention, which, outside of the necessity of my craft, I am not skilled in. You've invented a few spells of your own, have you not?" he asked.

"I wouldn't say that I've _invented_ spells," Hermione answered. "I've more so... _modified_ existing ones. To suit my purposes..."

"That, my dear, is often more difficult than creating a new spell altogether," he said smiling. "To modify a spell you must understand each of its components..." He put his pointer finger and thumb together for emphasis. "... and individually manipulate the parts you want to change. If you are capable of all this, especially in the case of complex spells, you are more than capable of creating a spell from scratch."

Hermione considered this. "I suppose you're right," she said after a while. "What I need from you then, is information about how wands conduct magic, and specifics about the properties of the wood and the magical cores used to make wands."

Ollivander nodded. "Wandlore is not an easy study Miss Granger... But I am sure," he said looking at her, "that you are already more than aware of the fact. Let's begin."

* * *

Over the next couple of days, some sort of normalcy had been established. Draco found that a couple hours a day with little Fred II put her in a good mood (Pyxis didn't seem to get along with Victoire like he had hoped and although Teddy was a nice enough kid, Victoire was obviously his preferred playmate). Pyxis usually came back from the Burrow happy, and thankfully exhausted, so that she enjoyed a long nap when she got home and Draco enjoyed some uninterrupted work time.

One afternoon while Pyxis was asleep in front of the television in the living room, Draco let out an uncharacteristic sigh from the in home office. He pushed sheaves of paper away from him and placed his head on the cool surface of the Hermione's desk. He was starting to think that this hex was a lost cost, that he had only been only assigned this case as busy work. Or maybe they were waiting to see how long he would struggle with it before he gave up and asked for something else. He glared at a dusty book angrily. The documentation of the curse previous to his research was shoddy at best. There was no mention of Hecate's hex previous to its first reported case, which only noted that it occurred. Where was the documentation behind the hex? What were the circumstances? What type of curse was it and who named it? And who was Hecate for that matter? Draco had sharp suspicions that he had heard the name before, in connection to another person. Draco sat up straight and pushed several parchments aside to uncover a seldom used computer keyboard. Hermione had introduced Draco to the internet during the first week of his stay with her and he was begrudgingly impressed by its capabilities. He drummed his fingers impatiently as he waited for the computer to start up. And after a few quick clicks and several much slower keystrokes he pulled up an online encyclopedia. When he found what he was looking for he read the passage aloud to himself.

"Hekate or Hecate, Greek goddess of magic, witchcraft, the night, the moon, ghosts and necromancy."

Well there was something. More than he had managed to find in the months of research he had done. Was it possible that the muggles had got it right and actually recognized an actual witch for what she was? He thought back to long hours in Professor Binns' history of magic class at Hogwarts and he could only vaguely remember one ancient Greek witch that dealt in the dark magic of ghosts and necromancy and that was Circe. Was that where he had heard of her? Had she perhaps gone by another name in the ancient muggle societies? Draco couldn't be sure but he hastily reached for a piece of parchment and scribbled down "Circe" and "necromancy" with instructions for his secretary to send him any titles from the Unpleasant Curse and Poison Center's library that contained either term. He rolled up the parchment and grabbed a piece of string to tie it with. He walked purposefully to the kitchen and opened the window peering around. He had not seen his eagle owl Strix in days. He knew that he hated Crookshanks from day one and refused to occupy the apartment for that very reason. Even so, Strix was usually around when Draco needed him. Draco leaned slightly out of the window and called, "Strix! Strix, you get back here you ridiculous bird!"

Draco sat down at the kitchen table with a huff, but he didn't have to wait long. Strix came soaring through the open window only five minutes later, looking decidedly angry for an owl, as if he had heard Draco's verbal abuse. "That was quick. Here," he said tying the scroll to Strix's outstretched leg. "Take this to my secretary at work. Don't let her try and give you the books unless she's shrunk them, the useless woman." Draco patted him on the head and he seemed to warm up a bit. "Off you go then." Strix hooted in an annoyed sort of way and took off again. Draco got up to watch the owl disappear into the sky. Strix didn't have that long a journey so if his secretary was on her game he would be back in an hour or so.

Still, he wasn't sure how anxious he would be to pick up with his work again when Strix returned. He had the feeling that he would be no less pleased with the new direction his research was taking.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione had received a two-day crash course in wandlore and was now working tirelessly in her office at the Ministry to create a spell that traced an individual's magic.

After hours of theorizing, Hermione pushed her notes aside. She had just had a break through. She pointed her wand between two quills she had charmed to stand up on their own. One she had charmed when she came in this morning. The other she had charmed only ten minutes ago. She focused on her concept and said, "___Magicus Vestigium__." _Hermione's wand started to glow a brilliant blue and vibrated in her hand. She moved her wand to the left, toward the quill she charmed first. The vibrating turned into a slow pulsing, like a steady heartbeat. When she moved her hand to the right the tempo of the pulsing positively raced. There seemed to be a direct correlation between how long ago the spell was cast and the vibration of the wand. Hermione wasn't sure what the blue glow meant yet but she would figure that out later with more tests. She felt a smile erupting on her face and tried to reign in her excitement. She still needed to conduct some more preliminary tests. But she was definitely on to something. Hermione sat down to scribble down her new findings when her stomach began to grumble. She looked at the clock on the wall and she realized she had skipped lunch. Again. She sighed as she realized how much she had been neglecting herself lately. She looked at her notes and decided she should take a break, just to grab something to eat. She jotted down a few more lines then made her way to down to the Atrium.

After several stops on the way down, the lift stopped on the 8th floor. The grates opened and she walked purposefully towards the Apparation points when she saw a familiar face coming out of the lift across from her. It was Rick Reed. Hermione saw Rick every so often. Usually, here in front of the lifts. Ever since their "discussion" a few months ago he had been perfectly cordial. And for this Hermione was eternally grateful. She couldn't deal with Rick's unrequited love on top of everything else going on in her life. Their occasional small talk never got any more personal than the weather or what the special was in the Ministry cafeteria. So when he caught her eye today and approached Hermione didn't have any reservations.

"Hello Rick," she said amiably.

"Hermione," Rick said smiling. "I haven't seen you down here in a while. Where have you been?"

"Chained to my desk unfortunately. How's the Unspeakable treating you?"

"I couldn't tell you," he said with a wink. "You look like hell," he added conversationally.

Hermione sighed. "I know," she conceded. "It's been one of those weeks. I haven't slept in days it feels like. You seem to be in a good humor though," Hermione said suspiciously.

Rick shrugged. "Just having a pleasant workday I guess. You say you haven't slept in days, huh? You look like you haven't _eaten_ in days either …" he said slowly. "Could I maybe treat to lunch? As a friend, of course," he added quickly when Hermione's eyes narrowed.

Hermione considered this for a moment. It couldn't hurt. And she was dreadfully hungry. She was about to open her mouth to accept when she was interrupted by two new comers.

"Reed, just the man I was looking for!" said a portly, cheery-faced man. After a moment's thought Hermione recognized him as John Combely. He was an Unspeakable, like Rick. He gestured to the other man with him. "Mr. Hiyashi, this is Rick Reed. Reed, Mr. Hiyashi. He's our foreign consultant for Project 613. I just was telling him about your amazing work on it. Oh! Excuse me, Ms. Granger! I didn't see you there!"

Hermione smiled politely. "Never mind me, Mr. Combely. I was just leaving."

"Please, call me John and just a moment! Take this!" He reached into the pocket of his robes and handed her a small plastic card. "It's an M.O. _Mini-Owl_. Reed here just designed this himself, an idea he got from you I'm told," he said nudging Rick in his side. Both Rick and Hermione colored. "It's a communication device modeled after the Protean charmed coins you used back at Hogwarts. Only these cards are for more direct communication. Tap it with your wand, state the recipient's name and then the message and voila! The message will appear on the recipient's card instantaneously! You can set it to a sound or a silent vibration, for those sticky situations. I'm told it works much like what muggles call_ texting_. The message travels much faster than a Patronus, which was our fastest form of communication up until now. But more important than being fast, the M.O. is discreet. You can't send a Patronus gallivanting into a room with sensitive information if an Auror is in hiding or undercover, so you can see how a M.O. would be preferable. Anyway, in a moment everyone in your department will have one of these, but you can have this one now. It's the first complete M.O. ever. All the other ones are copies of this one. They're exact copies, of course, but you have the honor of owning the original! Just between us," he added conspiratorially.

"Wow. Thank you, John," Hermione said looking at the card appreciatively.

"Not at all," he said waving a hand. "Not at all. I hope you find it useful. But now Mr. Hiyashi and I have business with Reed so I do apologize for stealing him away. Good day to you Ms. Granger!" he called as he steered Rick and Mr. Hiyashi away by the arm.

Rick looked back at Hermione with an apologetic smile. Hermione waved goodbye and placed the card in her pocket.

* * *

Minutes later Hermione was settling down into the outside seating at Florean and Fortescue. She was waiting on someone to come take her order when she noticed Luna walking down the street. She was wearing a bright turquoise summer dress with daisies under a bright yellow jacket. Hermione noticed she was wearing her infamous radish earrings and smiled. She called to her as she passed.

"Hey! Luna!"

Luna looked around bewildered until she spotted Hermione. "Oh! Hello, Hermione. Having lunch?"

Hermione got up to greet her with a hug. "Yeah, a short one. You should join me if you have a minute."

"Actually, yes. I've been meaning to owl you anyway," she said as she sat down and a waiter poured them two glasses of lemonade.

Hermione's eyebrow went up. "Really? What about?"

"Well, I wanted to get a start on finding a wedding dress but I need to make sure both you and Ginny were available before I set a date."

"Oh, of course." Hermione mentally chastised herself. She had completely forgotten about Ron and Luna's upcoming nuptials. She had been so consumed in her work that she was becoming one of those people who had no idea what was going on in their friend's lives. She had definitely been neglecting Ron, Ginny and Luna. She hadn't spent any real time with any of them in weeks. And if she was honest with herself, she probably wouldn't see Harry very much either if they did not work together. And she couldn't even remember the last time she phoned her mum. But that all needed to change. She smiled at Luna and promised herself she would make up for it. "You have no idea how excited I am," Hermione said earnestly. "I'm clearing a whole day just for you."

Luna returned the smile. "Great. I know the boys are planning a surprise birthday party for you this week on Friday so let's shoot for that Saturday," she said jotting it down in her date book.

Hermione, who was taking a sip of her lemonade, nearly choked. "Birthday party? What are they thinking? My birthday isn't until the 19th of September!"

"Today's the 15th , Hermione … Have you walked through a swarm of Gymbols lately?" Luna asked looking concerned.

"Gymbols? No … no," Hermione said slowly as she counted back the days. Luna was right. Where had all the weeks gone? She was turning twenty-six in three short days. Another year closer to thirty. _Wonderful_, she thought. Hermione sighed and then shook her head as another detail sunk in. "Surprise birthday party? Luna, if it was a surprise then why did you tell me about it?"

Luna shrugged. "Didn't see the harm. I was thinking neon colors for the bridesmaids' dresses. How do you look in tangerine?"

Hermione made a face as she seriously considered this. She imagined how all the Weasleys would fair in neon orange with their bright red hair and pale skin. With some difficulty she held back a laugh. "You know what, Luna...? Not too shabby," she said grinning.

* * *

Hermione entered the Ministry in a considerably better mood and was on her way back to her office when she heard a familiar voice calling her.

"Hermione!"

She turned around to see Harry walking briskly towards her. "Harry. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I was just about to ask you the same... I ran into Rick earlier. He said you guys had a nice little chat before you went to lunch," Harry said nonchalantly.

Hermione looked at him suspiciously. "Yes, we've actually been getting along quite well. I think he's finally gotten over me."

"Hmm... well, that's good, right? He's a nice guy..." Harry said watching her carefully. He seemed to be trying to gauge her reaction but Hermione couldn't imagine why. "Anyway, what have you been doing all day? I was sure you'd come see me with some developments by now."

"Well, while you have been busy polishing your wand, or whatever it is you do in your office," she said raising an eyebrow and smirking at him, "I have been making magical history."

"Polishing my wand? I'm shocked at you, Hermione. You know I don't polish my wand in my _office_," he said with a wink. "But what has the amazing Granger come up with this time?"

"I am on my way to creating a magical trace spell. I figured that what we needed for our abduction case was something to tie a particular spell to a particular wizard."

Harry's eyes widened and put a hand over her mouth. "Don't tell me anymore here," he said looking around. "Let's talk upstairs."

Hermione followed Harry to the lifts and up to his office. Upon entering, he performed the usual privacy charms on the room and Hermione made herself comfortable in her usual chair.

"So," Harry said sitting down behind his desk. "What is this you're telling me about a trace spell?"

Hermione smiled. "I'm creating a spell that can identify magic. Well two spells actually. They're just derivatives of the same thing. One sort of measures the strength of the spell and the other identifies the castor."

"And how will that help us without knowing without having something the kidnapper has magically altered?"

Hermione considered this for a while. She hadn't thought about that much. She was so anxious to create the spell that she hadn't stopped to think about what they would use to test it. But there had to be some detail she was overlooking.

"Hey, Harry," Hermione said slowly. "What exactly is the procedure for getting into the classified personal files? The ones that were broken into?"

"Well, first you would have to have the clearance, which I personally administer. There are six people who have direct access to the room. Anybody else has to come to me with a request. You can't just walk in there. Then after that you have to use the right spell to gain access. And this is an extremely complex charm. If you are not using your own wand, one you bought or one you acquired properly through a duel, the door won't even open. Now once you get in, you'll find the room itself is empty. There is a single scale that you must place your wand on. If you have clearance, the scale will register the fact and the files will appear to you."

Hermione nodded to herself. "With all those procedures and security measures in place it seems unlikely that an unauthorized person could just walk in there... So if I'm following you, they would not only have to completely avoid being seen, but they would have to use the wand of someone with the clearance to get in."

"Yes. And I've already been through everyone with clearance. None of mine were in there that day and nobody is missing a wand."

"It doesn't matter that _they_ didn't go in, one of their _wands_ did, Harry. We just need to find out who's wand went through, then we'll know who the kidnapper is using to do his dirty work."

"But how will we determine which wand was used if they've all cast the same spell to get through the door in the past?"

"It's the spells we're looking at, Harry. All spells leave a mark. Most spells that are cast will eventually wear off over time, depending on the strength of the castor. My trace charm will be able to distinguish between individual castors, as well as measure the strength of the spells cast on the door. Since we have all the authorized personnel's last visits accounted for, we'll just need to have them each unlock the ward with their wand and compare their most recent cast to their last. Now the spell cast by the _kidnapper_ will be different from that cast from the wand owner, even though it's the same spell and the same wand."

"How is that possible?"

"Easy. You and I could cast the same spell using your wand for example, but the two spells won't be exactly the same. Because our individual _magic_ is different. The magic that flows through each witch and wizard is completely unique to that person. So, if I have designed this spell correctly, it will be able to tell which wand cast the spell last and whether or not that spell belongs to the original wand owner. We'll just have to examine the spells cast on the door and compare them to the spells of those with clearance. Once we have that information we'll know who the kidnapper used to get in."

Harry shook his head. "That all sounds extremely complicated."

Hermione smiled. "It's really not. You'll see. Once I have the kinks worked out on this spell we'll find those women in no time... The difficult thing will be conducting our investigation without tipping off the kidnapper. If he's still watching whoever he used, he'll know we're on to him."

"You let me worry about that part," he said darkly. "What I need you to do is to continue to work on that spell until Thursday. You're taking Friday off."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And for what exactly?"

"Dinner at the Burrow."

"I don't have to take the entire day off for that."

"Yes, you do. You have other things to take care of."

Hermione scoffed. "What could possibly be more important than doing my job and finding these women? It's my responsibility to-"

"Yes, and it's also your responsibility to take care of yourself and the people in your personal life too. I know our work is meaningful and lives depend on us, but sometimes we need to take time out and save our own lives. You'll go mad if your sanity depends on the work we do inside this building," he said looking at her seriously. "I've been talking to Draco... And he's worried about Pyxis. Naturally, he came to me seeing as I'm the only person he knows with kids," he added proudly. Hermione couldn't help but smile at him. "But we talked for a while and I figure that what Pyxis really needs is to spend some quality time with _you._"

"Me? I can't imagine why you'd think that," Hermione said uncomfortably. "If anything, I imagine she would want her father. Why would she want to spend quality time with me?"

"Because she's been growing up without a mother and now her father is away for an undetermined amount of time. You and Draco are all the family she has now and I think she needs to spend some one-on-one time with you. It's hard growing up without parents, and it'll only get harder as she gets older." He paused. "I know having Sirius for the short time that I did made all the difference in the world... I really needed him... I still do from time to time." Harry said looking away. Hermione reached out and took Harry's hand over his desk. He squeezed her hand in return and continued. "It may have been worse losing him. I can't work it out in my head, but I think it hurt more. Having actually known him... But I digress... I know Pyxis may only be under your care for a short while in the grand scheme of things, but she can never have too many people in her life that care about her. She needs to know she has people in her corner."

Hermione looked at him for a long time. Of course she agreed with him. She had just said earlier today that she had been widely ignoring her life outside of work. And now after hearing Harry say it out loud she felt absolutely terrible for not taking a greater interest in Pyxis. In fact, she couldn't imagine what Pyxis must think of her. She hardly saw Pyxis at all in the few days that she had been with them. She chastised herself. "You're right, Harry. You know I get tunnel-vision when it comes to my work. I forget." She put a hand to her forehead frustrated. "God, I swear. I'm not this cold person..."

"Hey, hey … Look at me, Mione." He waited until she looked up at him and met his stare. "You are the most compassionate person I know. But it's like Ron's been saying for years. _You need to work on your priorities_," he said smiling. "Now for Merlin's sake, please go home before Draco sends me another owl crying about how I'm keeping you at work all hours."

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**Author's Note**: Finished reading? Did you like? Leave a review!


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